Ghosts
by OmniscientPancake17
Summary: Five years later, Berk is prospering like never before, Hiccup and Astrid are blissfully married, and peace with the dragons is stronger than ever. But dark forces gather beyond the sea, and when ghosts from the Haddock family's past suddenly resurface, Berk will be catapulted onto the front lines of a secret war that will decide the fates of Vikings and dragons across the world...
1. The Best Kept Secret

**Hey, everybody. I've been looking forward to this for quite some time. 7 months later, here I am with _Ghosts. _Before we begin, I should put a few notices up.**

**As I'm sure most of you have noticed, this story is rated M, for violence, language, and sexual themes (not all of them consensual). It's been five years since _Bound, _and Hiccup and Astrid are married adults. They do married adult things. They also will deal with adults who are... not good people. I'm not going to be writing smut during the course of this story, primarily because I don't feel like there are very many (if any at all) moments in what I've written where such a scene would fit. As for the other reasons for the rating, these are Vikings. They were violent. And then it's really fun to write these characters swearing.**

**If there are any new readers here, I should stress that this is a sequel. It's of course not imperative, but you'd probably want to read the first book, _Bound, _to fully understand how the characters have gotten to this point. _Bound _is essentially a retelling of the first movie with a key change about a year before its events. This story will also begin along similar lines as HTTYD2, but there are obvious differences that must be addressed, and the general story will deviate sooner and never really return.**

**That's all from me. Read on, and I hope that over the course of this story it becomes as enjoyable as the first book for all of you, if not more so. Thanks to my beta readers: Neon-S, Silvolde, and TheDelta724 for agreeing to help me out. Please consider reviewing at the end, I live for feedback. And thanks again for reading.**

* * *

_This... is Berk. The best kept secret this side of... well, anywhere._

* * *

**_Ghosts_**

_**1\. The Best Kept Secret**_

Hiccup woke as he often did these days, blissfully entranced by the warm body at his side. Astrid was tucked against him, her perfect blonde locks let completely down so that they were practically in his face. He was holding her, as he so often was, and he found it even harder than usual to crawl out of bed and leave her. Sunlight unfortunately glittered through their window, beckoning him to rise and greet the morning. The sounds of Terrible Terrors singing seemed to vibrate through the window, off-key and dissonant but still somehow beautiful and moving.

Before he moved to get up, he peered over Astrid's body, scanning the sheets for her left hand. His own right hand was tightly interlocked with hers by her stomach, sharing their warmth between them, but her left arm was at an errant angle nearby, threatening to dangle off the edge of the bed if she moved much further. There, squarely fixed around her ring finger, was a gleaming wedding band.

Even more than six months later, Hiccup still could not believe it. He was _married_ to Astrid Hofferson, the most beautiful woman in all of Midgard. He'd forged the wedding bands himself, using only the finest gold on Berk. On one side of the ring was a tiny Nadder scale, and on the other that of a Night Fury, symbolizing their unity through the scales of their beloved dragons. They'd first been engaged to one another five and a half years ago, at the young age of 14 years. Now, they were both newly twenty, in the primes of their youth while still teetering on the cusp of adulthood and responsibility.

Cautiously, Hiccup crawled out of bed, careful not to disturb Astrid. She was always so beautiful when she slept and waking her felt like a crime against the gods. The sheets fell to cover the space where he'd once been, and he quietly attached his prosthetic and dressed into his daytime clothes—today, a tight black tunic and brown riding trousers. He grabbed his individual pieces of armor and silently shuffled out of the room; donning the suit was a noisier affair than just his normal attire.

The kitchen and common room of their home sprawled out in front of Hiccup as he quietly closed the bedroom door. Fine wood floors absorbed his footsteps, and soft furniture begged to be put to use as he crept to the kitchen counter where the food baskets were. A host of assorted dried fish was kept inside, stored for the two ravenous dragons owned by the happy couple. Toothless stirred on a heavy slab in the corner of the room, designated as his new bed after Hiccup and Astrid married. The Night Fury had been none too happy about being formally removed from Hiccup's room, but the change had been necessary. Hiccup really wasn't comfortable with the idea of his pet dragon sitting in on certain _marital activities._

"Morning, bud," Hiccup greeted with a hushed voice. Piece by piece, he donned his armor, and then he grabbed a fistful of dried cod cuts from the basket. He walked over to Toothless, who propped himself up from his slab and sniffed the air. The smell of the fish made the dragon's pupils dilate, and with a happy croon he snatched two cuts of the fish from Hiccup's hand, smacking and licking his lips.

"How's that taste?" Hiccup asked, and Toothless warbled approvingly.

The dragon's green eyes shifted off of Hiccup, looking past him, and her voice instantly cut through the silent indoor air, "Good morning."

Hiccup startled, surging to his feet and groaning in surprise. She'd somehow jumped him in complete silence—even the bedroom door hadn't creaked. "Gods, how do you _do _that? I never hear you sneaking up on me."

"I'm just a lot quieter than you, babe," Astrid answered.

"I made sure not to make a sound!" Hiccup protested, disbelieving.

"Hiccup, please, I heard you loud and clear before you ever even shuffled out of bed." Astrid crossed the room, eyes clouded and drowsy. Hiccup reached out and wrapped one arm around her and lovingly tucked her close.

"Maybe that's why you're so tired lately. I don't know how you get any sleep, since you're clearly awake the whole time listening for when I get up," Hiccup quipped.

"If that's the case, can we go back to bed? Surely your dad will understand," Astrid suggested. Her mouth opened in a great, lengthy yawn.

"Unfortunately, it's not our honey month anymore." _Gods, _did he mean that, "And as much as I would love to go back to sleep, I have an unfortunate prior arrangement," Hiccup said. Six days a week, he ate breakfast with his lovely wife and their dragons. But once a week, he shared breakfast with his father, a compromise they'd made to make up for all the daily meals they ended up losing when Hiccup and Astrid moved into their new home together.

"And I, too," Astrid conceded. In response to Hiccup and Stoick's compromise, she'd made an identical one with her parents: one breakfast a week with them in her childhood home.

The window rattled and a squawk filtered into the house, closely followed by the appearance of a Deadly Nadder with shining blue scales. Stormfly squawked again and nudged her head in through the window, beckoning Astrid to her. Astrid slipped out of Hiccup's embrace and walked over to the window to scratch the Nadder's chin. Stormfly clucked appreciatively, leaning into the young woman's touch.

"Hiya, girl. Did you hear me talking with Hiccup?" Astrid cooed. Stormfly squawked in answer, seemingly affirming Astrid's question. "And I'm guessing you're hungry. Let me go get you some fish from the basket."

Hiccup offered Astrid his hand, still full of fish. "Here. Already got some."

Toothless immediately protested as Hiccup took a few steps forward to pass the extra fish to Astrid. Hiccup barked back at him, "Yes, it was originally for you, I know." Toothless snorted and laid his head back down on the slab, mocking Hiccup with a roll of his big eyes. "Oh, don't give me that tone, you know you're going to be fed plenty when we're at Dad's. Gluttonous reptile."

Toothless didn't have a retort for that and quieted down, and Stormfly greedily accepted the fish from Astrid's hands. The Nadder slurped down the helping and nuzzled against Astrid, combing a lock of her wild hair with a careful tooth.

"Okay, girl, I could use a bath. Once I'm dressed, I'll get you some more breakfast and we'll head to Mom and Dad's house, okay?" Astrid suggested. Stormfly squawked and took off to get in a morning flight. Astrid turned away from the window.

"I'll take that as my cue to leave," Hiccup said.

"You know, you could always join me," Astrid said in a sudden, flirtatious tone. Hiccup stiffened as she bit her bottom lip and she sauntered close to him, running a few tantalizing fingers down his armored torso. Her touch seemed to burn through the metal and leather, making him feel naked and disarmed as she dragged him completely under her sway with only her fingers and whispered words. "A little hot water, no clothes, a closed door. Could be fun."

Astrid's hand was on his thigh as she finished her sentence, grinning like mad as Hiccup squirmed. He both loved and hated what she could do to him with only her words, and he suspected that she loved what she could do to him as well. She'd embraced the role of occasional temptress ever since their wedding, something that Hiccup previously had never imagined she'd not only be able to do, but also be so damned good at.

When he told her once that one of the reasons he loved her was because she could do anything she put her mind to, he hadn't necessarily been thinking about _that._

Hiccup shivered, "As amazing as that sounds, I really need to go. Knowing how my dad operates, I'm probably already late." Astrid dropped her hand from him, nodding. She knew that he wouldn't stay, that he couldn't, but she had enjoyed giving him an unacceptable alternative to breakfast with his father. If it was still their honey month, he would be able to get away with such a tryst, but not anymore. "I'll see you at the race, though?" he offered.

Astrid nodded, enthusiastic. "Yeah, if by seeing me you mean seeing Stormfly's backside, since we're gonna be beating you today."

Hiccup answered with a haughty scoff, and Astrid laughed. "Oh-ho, is that a challenge, milady? We'll be seeing about that, won't we?"

"Maybe we will, if you aren't too distracted thinking about what you're going to be missing in there," Astrid gestured to their bathroom, and succeeded in setting Hiccup on fire once again. In retaliation, he snaked his arms around her lower back and tugged her in close, nearly touching his forehead to hers.

"That isn't fair," Hiccup growled.

Astrid smiled, pearly white teeth gleaming. Her blonde hair glowed under the sunlight streaming in through the window. "Fair is overrated," she murmured, inching closer and closer to him and practically reaching for him with her lips.

They shared a quick, chaste kiss. When they separated, Hiccup murmured a soft "I love you," and let her go.

"I love you, too," Astrid said, almost automatic. For a split-second, she wished he'd kiss her again. She'd initiated it, but he had a strange way of making one kiss simply not enough for her sometimes.

Hiccup gestured at his dragon. "C'mon, Toothless. Let's go eat with Dad." Toothless grumbled and stood, shaking the sleep out of his legs as he followed Hiccup to the front door of the house. Astrid stuck out a hand to the dragon and Toothless allowed her to run her hand down the entire length of his warm body in a silent farewell.

"See you at the race," Hiccup called, and he closed the door behind him, leaving Astrid alone in their house.

* * *

Hiccup knocked on the door of his childhood home, just a short walk from his new dwelling that he shared with Astrid. The sounds of mingling dragons echoed in his ears, the day on Berk already in full swing as people and dragons milled about in the town beneath the hill. The door dragged open from the inside and the almost-comically large form of Stoick the Vast appeared in the doorway. The Chief of Berk beamed through his red beard, seemingly burning away the streaks of grey and white that now permeated the magnificent display of facial hair.

"Son! You're late," Stoick greeted, stepping back so that Hiccup could enter. Father and son shared a quick hug, and the smell of breakfast wafted into Hiccup's nose.

"Good morning to you too, Dad. Something smells good. What are you making?"

"Have a look for yourself, why don't you?" Stoick suggested, and Hiccup walked to the kitchen. Toothless walked in through the front door next, warbling at Stoick. "And good morning to you, Toothless. Hungry?"

Toothless grunted in a familiar way that seemed to say _always,_ and Stoick responded by walking to the counter and fetching a few cuts of fish from a basket to feed to the Night Fury. Hiccup caught sight of the act and made a face at Toothless as the dragon gulped down the fish, his earlier point proven in spades. _Gluttonous reptile. _Next, Hiccup carefully lifted the lid of the pot containing their breakfast, cooking over a fire in the hearth.

The smell of Icelandic cod, eggs, and bread filled Hiccup's nose, and he sighed in appreciation. His father had been charged with cooking ever since they lost his mother, and he had to say that Stoick had become quite good at it. Astrid was virtually incapable of cooking (though she had improved), and as much as Hiccup loved eating breakfast with her, there was a certain degree of relief involved in having breakfast with his dad; namely, that it was absolutely guaranteed the food would be edible.

A few minutes later, Stoick fetched the food out of the pot and mixed healthy servings of each kind into two wooden bowls-which meant a normal amount for Hiccup and a considerably larger portion for Stoick. Once he was done, the food was served. Hiccup and Stoick sat in seats across from each other on either side of the fire, soaking up its warmth as they ate. The cod was perfectly cooked and melted in Hiccup's mouth. At his feet, Toothless feasted on a mix of assorted fish, gulping each individual one down without a hint of choiceness.

"How is Astrid doing?" Stoick asked between bites of eggs.

"She's good. She's excited about the race this afternoon."

"I can only imagine. She's going to bring the heat after you beat her in last week's race."

Hiccup nodded and flashed a grin, "She's already talking trash." Stoick allowed himself a brief chuckle and watched his son return to eating, pausing over his own meal as he considered how to ask his next question.

"And how are things going in the... _heir-making_ department?" he decided, fairly blunt as he usually was. Hiccup froze, his fork hovering over the bowl and his eyes fixated on the food inside in a way that said, _shit_. Carefully, he pulled the fork away from the food, tilting his head up and tenaciously avoiding meeting his father's eyes.

"Er, sure. That's going well, I guess. I-I haven't heard anything from her about… results…"

"Are you sure you're not doing something wrong?" Stoick asked, once again blunt as a bludgeon.

"_Okay…" _Hiccup raised his voice to an awkward pitch, and his fork clattered into the bowl now. Toothless looked up and complained about the sudden noise with an annoyed grunt, but Hiccup ignored him. Hiccup pinched the bridge of his nose as he spoke, "Do people have to keep asking us that? That kind of stuff… it's private," Hiccup said as he gestured wildly with his hands, only furthering his embarrassment.

"Well, I'm sorry, son, but you're a married man now. You have duties."

"I'm aware of that, Dad," Hiccup said, annoyed.

"I'm sorry if I struck a nerve."

Hiccup held up his hand and sighed, "No, it's fine. At least you seem to be somewhat uncomfortable talking about my sex life. Ruffnut asked us the same question last week and was _very explicit_ in describing how 'it' happens. She even took it upon herself to suggest some new—and I can't believe I'm telling you this—new positions. Thor, I will _never_ forget some of the hand gestures she made." Stoick grimaced at the mental image as well. "Astrid and I are fine. Of course, we've talked about kids. But it's just going to happen when it happens. Not everyone needs to have a baby on the way the second after they tie the knot."

Stoick nodded, "I understand. Your mother and I were similar, if it helps."

"You were?" Hiccup asked.

"Sure. Everyone wanted to know when we were going to have a child, especially your grandfather. But it was hard. We struggled to have you, for a long time. And when you finally came to us… well, he wasn't with us any longer. So, there was a time when you were a baby that I felt guilt… thinking that I had withheld my father the chance to hold his grandson," Stoick explained.

Hiccup gulped. "Oh, Dad, I…" He'd known that his parents had struggled for a long time with having children—simple math had brought him to that conclusion ages ago. By now, Stoick was just shy of fifty years old, and with Hiccup having already come up on 20… there was a long gap in there somewhere, his mother certainly hadn't been an old maid when she'd married his father, and he hadn't been the oldest buck in the village, either. They must've had to wait on him for a long time, and surely not for lack of trying. He and Astrid were _physically _trying. A fair amount, actually. There were just… other things in the way.

"But please, don't think I'm trying to pressure you," Stoick suddenly added, recognizing that Hiccup might've gotten the wrong idea. For all his bluntness, Stoick was getting better these days about considering his words and how they might be received, especially from his peculiar son. "I got carried away there. I may be about as old as your grandfather was, but I don't plan to die anytime soon. Things have changed around here. You and Astrid should do what you want to do. I understand that." Stoick smiled, and Hiccup smiled back. With gusto, he resumed eating, digging into his slice of bread with renewed energy.

It took a few minutes and one look at his father, though, for Hiccup to realize that Stoick was still staring at him. The Chief's bowl was only half-empty, and he'd set it on the edge of the hearth and out of his way. That was unusual, Hiccup thought. He finished chewing the last bit of his bread and unsteadily swallowed it, watching out of the upper corners of his eyes and seeing that Stoick was indeed still watching him. It was getting creepy.

"Uh, Dad? Are you sure everything's alright?" Hiccup asked, looking up again and waiting. Somehow, he could feel the storm clouds swirling, an unwelcome tingle in his extremities that made him believe he was in some kind of trouble. It was a reflex from his formative years, always being spoken to like he'd messed up; and though he rarely tensed up like this anymore, that instinct was one of the few things about him that hadn't changed over the years.

"Fine," Stoick said, in a way that was so very unconvincing. "Son, there's something else I need to speak with you about."

Hiccup frowned, and after a moment's deliberation, shrugged and set his bowl similarly on the edge of the hearth. His dad didn't _seem _upset with him, at least not yet. Toothless looked up from his mostly finished feast of fish on the floor, warbling in confusion as he picked up on the tension in the room that wasn't quite there yet.

Nevertheless, despite Stoick's relative calm, Hiccup's throat became unexpectedly dry. "Um, sure. Shoot," he said, clenching his fingers around the armrests of the chair as if that could dispel his discomfort.

Stoick rubbed his large hands together and suddenly stood up from his seat. "Well, son, you're the pride of Berk. The others your age look up to you. You're a leader. I couldn't be prouder of you."

Hiccup tensed even further. This was not subtle. At all. But for the life of him, he couldn't figure out where his father was going with this.

"And now you're a married man. You've surpassed every expectation of a chief's son, time and again," Stoick beamed.

"Uh, gee, thanks, Dad. I… I'm pretty impressed with myself too, I guess?" Hiccup injected a half-hearted attempt at humor into the conversation, wilting when that didn't help loosen him up at all.

Stoick turned his back, shoulders rising and falling as if he were psyching himself up for something. When he started to speak, he sighed happily, and there was a lilt in his voice that was so rare, the kind he only employed when he was truly bursting with pride. "And so, since no chief could ask for a better successor—"

Oh. _Oh, no._

"—I have decided—"

"Toothless," Hiccup shot out of his chair and pivoted to walk away. Toothless likewise launched to his feet and followed Hiccup in a confusion, warbling after the young man.

Stoick turned to look back at his son, only to find that he wasn't in the chair. In the same instant, Hiccup's panicked, retreating footsteps echoed in the house, making it all too easy for Stoick to look up after him and see Hiccup gunning for the door, Toothless on his heels.

"Hiccup!" Stoick snapped, but the boy didn't listen. The storm was raging at full force now, flashing bolts of self-doubt and thunderclaps of fear wracking him like a series of punches to the gut. Hiccup jerked the front door open in an obvious panic, and he snapped his fingers at Toothless as they both dashed outside. Beyond the door, the Night Fury laid down so that Hiccup could climb onto his back.

Stoick tore through the doorway, wincing as he saw that Hiccup had already locked himself into the saddle. Toothless' tailfin slid open with a resounding _click._ "Hiccup, wait—" he tried, lifting his hands in a futile effort to defuse the situation.

Hiccup cut him off, paying Stoick no mind as he sought to escape the walls crumbling in on him. "Go, bud," he barked, and Toothless braced himself and launched into the air, great black wings beating powerfully to send the pair screaming into the sky.

"_HICCUP!"_ Stoick roared, but again, he didn't listen. Instead, he leaned forward as Toothless' kept hurtling through the sky, blazing away from Berk until it was barely even a dot on the horizon.

* * *

The crowd chattered nonstop as the dragons and their riders waited at the start line. The wide wooden walkway traversed the gap between the stands and the island, dangling precariously above the sea. Carved through the wood were five, wide gaps, decoratively painted to depict the dragon it corresponded to. A basket, empty for the time being, dropped down from the opening, bolted to the frame. The strokes of paint coloring each goal were all different; green for Ruff and Tuff and Barf and Belch, orange for Fishlegs and Meatlug, red for Snotlout and Hookfang, bright blue for Astrid and Stormfly, and black for Hiccup and Toothless.

The dragons and their riders had also decorated themselves with face paint, as was traditional. Astrid bore blue-and-orange marks under her eyes and across her nose, and she had colored some of Stormfly's horns as well as her wings with the same color pattern. Across the walkway in front of the starting line, Vikings hefted painted sheep over their shoulders, intending to hide them accordingly throughout the village. Only the sheep with targets painted on their sides would count towards the game.

Judging by the crowd, they were almost ready to start. There was just one problem, though. Hiccup and Toothless still hadn't shown. It was highly unusual; the two of them loved dragon racing and were never anything close to late when there was a scheduled race.

Astrid had been looking forward to seeing her husband before the race. They had to get in their usual trash talk before the starting horn; the usual stuff, like Astrid warning Hiccup that he would sleep in the common room if he beat her (usually, she didn't enforce that even when he did beat her. The first time she had, she'd barely been able to sleep herself, his absence feeling foreign and wrong and keeping her awake most of the night).

Little by little, the deck cleared as Vikings returned from hiding the sheep, and still Hiccup was nowhere to be found. At the back of the pack were Stoick and Gobber, the former wearing a frown the likes of which Astrid had not seen across the Chief's face in years. He padded across the deck with an unusual viciousness to his gait.

"Uh, Chief? Have you seen Hiccup anywhere?" Astrid asked, wringing her hands as the two men passed her by.

"No," Stoick grouched in answer. Astrid flinched at his tone. What had happened at breakfast between those two? Stoick kept walking and Gobber shot her an apologetic look before following.

"What was that about?" Fishlegs squeaked.

"I have no idea," Astrid said, confused. Stoick ascended the steps to his special place presiding over the starting line, closely followed by Gobber. Spitelout was already there, speaking inaudibly to the Chief. Stoick answered, voice equally inaudible over the roar of the crowd.

Putting on a brave face and stepping forward, Stoick addressed the audience with a proud voice, his jubilant shouts not at all befitting the dreadful mood he'd just been in upon speaking briefly to Astrid. "People of Berk! Are you ready… for a _dragon race?"_

The crowd howled in response, full of joy and anticipation. Vikings of all ages jumped and waved and hollered.

"I thought so!" Stoick boomed, laughing. "We've waited long enough, so without further ado: Riders, mount your dragons!"

Astrid needn't be told twice, leaping up onto Stormfly's back with only a single step on one of the stirrups. Fishlegs, Snotlout, and the twins followed suit, and Stormfly braced herself in anticipation.

Stoick gestured his approval to Gobber, who promptly waved his prosthetic hand in the air. An instant later, a booming horn was blown from across town, its deep bellow splitting the afternoon air. _The starting horn._

"Go!"

"_Rawk!" _Stormfly raced forward, diving off of the deck and spreading her wings to take flight. The Nadder flapped and flapped, taking an early lead as the others settled behind her. The course made them fly out beyond the edge of the island before hooking around the harbor to return to the village. As soon as Stormfly began to fly over the green grass of the village, she spotted a sheep with a big, colorful target painted on its wool, wandering absently down the empty street without a care in the world and unable to put two and two together.

"Go get him, Stormfly!" Astrid called, and Stormfly zoomed in, flying low to the ground. The sheep heard them coming and ran in a panic, but it was nowhere near a match for Stormfly's speed. The Nadder snatched up the sheep in her claws, holding tight and ascending once again to continue on the course.

"Nice work, girl—now, let's hold on!" Astrid chanced a look behind her, already spotting Snotlout attempting to catch up. Each lap only allowed a single sheep to be caught, and from that point on until the sheep was dropped into one of the buckets at the start line, all bets were off. It was a free-for-all for ownership of the captured sheep and the point that it offered.

A gel-like flame scorched the air behind them and Stormfly instinctively barrel-rolled out of the way. The fire had clearly come from a Monstrous Nightmare, which meant Hookfang. Astrid cast an offended look back at Snotlout, who gritted his teeth and spurred Hookfang again. The twins and Fishlegs flapped a safe distance behind, taking up third and fourth place in the order.

The sheep bleated in fear. "Stormfly, hand him over to me," she ordered, and Stormfly expertly tossed the sheep up and in front of her, the little animal wailing even more now. With ease, the Nadder flew just under the sheep and Astrid grabbed on, holding the ram in her arms. Stormfly weaved through the course, looping around Raven Point. As soon as the pair rounded the mountain, Hookfang came barreling straight at them from out of sight, having cut around the front of the mountain to head them off. _Technically _against the rules, but since participants were actively encouraged to break the rules of dragon racing (literally, that was in the rules handbook Hiccup had drawn up), Astrid could only try to adjust to the dirty play.

Snotlout bellowed a war cry as they closed in, and Stormfly expertly rolled up and out of Hookfang's path, a powerful rush of wind whipping beneath them as the Monstrous Nightmare missed. Astrid let out a haughty laugh as Hookfang spiraled, struggling to right his course and give chase.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Snotlout! Did you want this?" Astrid hollered back, taunting him and pointing at the sheep in her grasp.

"Astrid!" he yelled after her angrily. She caught sight of Snotlout's foul snarl before turning her attention up ahead. Fishlegs and the twins were nowhere to be seen ahead, and Astrid leaned into Stormfly to encourage the Nadder to go faster. Within the next half-minute, Stormfly barreled around to the starting line. Astrid expertly leaned off of the dragon's side and dropped the sheep in her basket as they whooshed by, hearing Stoick's congratulatory shout as she passed.

"Astrid takes the first point!" Stoick announced, and Stormfly ascended once more to begin the second lap. The Nadder slowed to catch her breath and Snotlout pulled in beside them on Hookfang's back, shrugging off his failure.

"Not bad, but I could've done better," Snotlout said.

"Oh, really? Is that why you failed to take the sheep from us?" Astrid shot back.

They both spotted the next sheep at the same time and made a beeline for it, speeding neck-and-neck for the potential point. Stormfly lowered her legs and stretched her claws, ready to snatch up the fleeing ram, but just before they could reach it, Snotlout jerked Hookfang's horns, prompting the Nightmare to crash into Stormfly's side. The impact rocked Astrid sideways and sent Stormfly careening off-course. Astrid tried to steady Stormfly as she fussed worriedly, and Hookfang easily snatched up the ram and continued along the course.

"Ugh! Let's chase after them, girl, he won't beat us that easily!" Astrid urged. The twins passed her by as Stormfly righted herself and took to the air, falling into pace with Fishlegs. The husky boy nodded meekly at her and urged Meatlug after them. Snotlout and the twins ended up fighting for the sheep—a fight that Snotlout curiously lost all too easily—and the twins ended up earning the point to tie them with Astrid.

Astrid soon found, with alarm, that the race proceeded to go similarly like that. She would catch the sheep a few times, but when it wasn't her that got her dragon's claws around one, the twins always won.

The twins built up an 8-3 lead over her (while Snotlout and Fishlegs shared dead last with zero points) when she finally caught on.

It was the 12th lap, and the targeted sheep was hiding in a pack of other, unpainted sheep as the racers banked around a corner and zoomed through the street at the cluster. The group saw the dragons coming and, apparently knowing what was about to happen, promptly kicked the painted sheep out of the group and left it exposed. Fishlegs led the pack and zeroed in, encouraging Meatlug all the way.

"Stormfly, spines!" Astrid called out, and the Nadder whipped her tail and shot a few spines at Fishlegs and Meatlug up in front of them. The spines zipped through the air and struck Meatlug's hide, startling the Gronckle just enough to allow Astrid and Stormfly to zoom past them and grab the sheep.

"Great work, girl!" Stormfly accepted the praise with a squawk and they curved around a tight turn on their way to the midpoint of the lap.

Astrid only saw the shape in her peripheral vision before the voice rang in her ears, _"Excuse me!" _Snotlout hollered, and Astrid could only jerk Stormfly's horns before the Nightmare crashed into them, having once again cut through the course to head them off. Stormfly screeched and Hookfang yanked the sheep from her grasp before kicking her and Astrid out of the way.

"Dammit!" Astrid snapped, and Stormfly squawked sadly as she righted herself and returned to the path behind both the twins and Fishlegs. "It's not your fault, girl. That one's on me."

She looked ahead past Fishlegs and watched with surprise as Snotlout slowed down and allowed the twins to catch up. Without even putting up a fight, Snotlout handed over the sheep to Ruffnut, saying something to her and grinning. Barf, Ruffnut's Zippleback head, started to breathe gas, and Tuffnut leaned in at Snotlout to say something before Belch, the other head, spat sparks and ignited the gas to send Snotlout spinning in an explosion. With ease, the Thorston pair added the next sheep to their collection.

"You see that too, Stormfly? He's been handing them to Ruffnut. Let's go knock some sense into Snotlout. _Literally._" Astrid sneered, and she guided Stormfly after them as she heard Stoick saying something about the twins having 9 points.

As soon as they pulled up above Snotlout, Astrid reached down and smacked him with the butt of her axe. _"Ow!" _Snotlout complained, and he glared up at her. "What was that for?"

"What the Hel do you think you're doing, Snotlout? They're going to win now," Astrid said, and she returned to her saddle with a cross look on her face. It was a look similar to the one her mother had given her when Astrid was a child and had gotten caught red-handed sneaking around after curfew. Not the first thing she'd modeled after her mother, and certainly not the last.

"What, she's my princess! Whatever she wants, she gets!" Snotlout said.

"_Ruffnut?"_ Astrid blurted out, appalled. This was a _romantic gesture?_

"Yeah! Now that you're off the market, I've gotta find a babe somehow, and Ruffnut just so happens to be right in my age range."

Astrid rolled her eyes. She'd been "off the market" for years, but that hadn't stopped Snotlout from flirting with her, all the way up until she and Hiccup had tied the knot last autumn. Well, at least she didn't have to deal with him anymore. Still, that didn't excuse his blatant behavior. This was supposed to be _her_ race to win, and if she couldn't win when Hiccup wasn't even here, she was _not_ performing up to code.

Astrid scanned the village, finding no painted sheep skulking around the empty streets of Berk. The others seemed to have noticed too, flying leisurely in circles. "No more sheep, so that means…" the horn erupted with two long blasts throughout the village, and Astrid beamed with realization, "Yes, the black sheep! C'mon, Stormfly, this isn't over!"

Astrid leaned forward and Stormfly increased her speed to pull ahead of Snotlout and Hookfang. At the top of a hill, a small catapult pointing straight up had been loaded with a sheep possessing black wool. A bold streak of yellow paint decorated its nose, the catapult manned by a Viking.

The Viking pulled a lever, and the black sheep went flying.

"Go, go, go!" Astrid urged, and Stormfly ascended to catch the sheep. The Nadder lifted her claws to snatch it from the air, only for a round shape to zoom in front of them from below out of nowhere and whisk the sheep away. "No!" Astrid yelled, recognizing Fishlegs and Meatlug.

"_Great job, Meatlug!" _Fishlegs praised. He turned to look and spotted Ruffnut and Tuffnut close behind. Without hesitation, he pulled up and turned to face Ruff. "Here you go, darling. Mine's worth ten!"

Fishlegs ordered Meatlug to toss the black sheep right into Ruff's waiting arms. Astrid's jaw nearly hit her saddle as she gaped in shock, and Hookfang pulled up beside her again. With a scornful—and disbelieving—look, she turned to Snotlout.

"You guys are fighting over _Ruffnut?"_

"_Tch, _it's definitely not a fight," Snotlout muttered, before he caught a glance at Astrid's angry glare, "You're just jealous that she's getting all the attention now," Snotlout said.

"You—" Astrid scoffed, and she looked up ahead at the perfect time. Barf and Belch body checked Meatlug, sending the Gronckle and Fishlegs hurtling back towards them. Astrid jerked on Stormfly's crown of spikes and the Nadder barrel-rolled out of the way, causing Meatlug to instead crash into Hookfang. Emboldened, she leaned forward along Stormfly's back, focused, "C'mon, Stormfly, it's now or never!"

"_Rawk!" _Stormfly flapped her wings and zoomed forward, quickly catching up to the twins. Neither of them had any idea that she was approaching them as they reached the final stretch of the lap, the scoring baskets looming in front of them. Time was running short.

"No one can stop me now!" Ruffnut howled, already declaring victory.

"Except for me, genius. We're attached!" Tuffnut countered, and he reached for the sheep. "Gimme!"

"No!" Ruffnut railed, holding onto the sheep with one hand and sticking her other hand into her brother's face to hold him off.

"Gimme it now! You're stealing all of my glory with your stupid lovers' spat!"

"It's called using them, you idiot!" Ruffnut snapped, entering her foot into the fight by kicking Tuffnut in the belly to try and push him away. The male twin didn't relent, grappling for the sheep and pulling its legs, something that the poor sheep did not enjoy.

Astrid leaped into a squat, standing atop her saddle as Stormfly closed in from behind. Stormfly got the message and flew in right behind the Zippleback, allowing Astrid to leap onto its back and race across to make a run for the black sheep. She danced between the plates on the dragon's back, each step carefully calculated so that she didn't slip off of the moving dragon. Just as she reached the dragon's middle, Tuffnut got a second hand on the sheep and pulled, leaving it perfectly in between the Zippleback's necks and ripe for the taking.

"D'you feel that?" Ruffnut asked.

"I feel you stealing my glory!" Tuffnut groused. Astrid made her move, diving and ripping the sheep from the twins' contested grasp. Stormfly swooped underneath her so that she could land right in the saddle.

"_Ha!" _Astrid boasted. Stormfly squawked and they zoomed towards the baskets, leaving Ruffnut and Tuffnut behind them.

"She can't do that! Wait, can she?" Tuffnut rambled, flabbergasted.

"Astrid!" Ruff yowled, probably shaking her fist. The mental image made Astrid grin. Victory was hers! Stormfly aimed for the baskets, the crowd's roar filling Astrid's ears as they closed in. With no one to oppose her, Astrid leaned to the side and dropped the sheep into her basket.

"That's thirteen!" Stoick yelled, "Astrid takes the game!"

"Yes!" Astrid whooped, and she steered Stormfly towards the crowd as the great horn blew again, signaling the end of the race. She leaned off the side of her Nadder, high-fiving as many people as she could while she zoomed past them.

"That's my daughter-in-law!" Stoick hollered, and Astrid beamed. Well, at least he seemed to be in a better mood now. Astrid took a glance back at Hiccup's basket, empty and unused from his absence, and she pressed both knees forward and into Stormfly's flank to steer her up. The Nadder obeyed and Astrid guided her into an acrobatic spin, raising her hands as they turned and raced straight up.

"_Woooooo-hoo!" _Astrid howled above the wind. Berk shrank behind them as they ascended, and Astrid reached into her saddle bag next to her axe, the weapon safely nestled in a net tied tight to the Nadder's flank. She fished through the contents and grasped one of Toothless' shed scales. She always collected a few of his most recently shed scales—they carried a very strong scent and as such were incredibly useful for tracking down Hiccup when he went missing (an occurrence that was a little too common for Astrid's liking).

"Alright, girl…" Astrid hovered the scale near Stormfly's nose, allowing the dragon to sniff it and take in Toothless' scent. Stormfly squawked as she easily found the trail, and Astrid gripped the handlebars of the Nadder's saddle in preparation. "Let's go find our boys!"

* * *

**The adventure begins...**


	2. Where No One Goes

**A/N: Happy New Year, everyone. Before I begin Chapter 2, a couple of things:**

**First, with this chapter I'm kind of hugging the plotline of HTTYD2. This is temporary. In Chapter 3, things will break off completely. There are still my own changes to make things fit within the context of _Bound, _and the final scene carries some key differences related to the story at large.**

**Second, I should mention the time gap between these two stories. Several characters both from the books and the series will be appearing over the course of **_**Ghosts, **_**so it stands to reason that things happened to put them where they are.**

**I would consider Gift of the Night Fury compliant with this alternative canon. There's nothing I recall that would contradict things I established during **_**Bound. **_**So I can safely say that in this timeline, the events of that short occurred. Then there is **_**Cabin Fever, **_**the small one-shot I wrote a few months ago. That takes place several weeks later in the dead of winter. After that… well, it's iffy. In this chapter I mention things that would suggest that many of the events of Riders of Berk and Defenders of Berk occurred, but not quite in the way depicted in the series. I have no way of combing through those nor the energy to establish a separate concrete "canon" to follow along. So, whatever headcanons you all come up with for this long gap while reading are perfectly valid.**

**The big kicker is that Race to the Edge cannot possibly have happened in this continuity for several reasons, some that are already established and some that will become clear later on. I'll leave you guys to figure out how that's the case. So some of the key events that happened in RTTE need to have happened elsewhere by the time **_**Ghosts **_**rolls around must have happened somewhere else in this five-year gap. It's up to each one of you reading this to decide for yourselves when, where, and how those developments occurred. I don't see myself ever filling in that gap with writing.**

**Now, with that wall of text over with, on with the chapter.**

* * *

_**2\. Where No One Goes**_

"So, what should we call it, bud?"

Hiccup glanced over at his dragon, who was currently scraping underneath his front leg with both tongue and teeth, getting at some sort of unseen itch. Toothless was making a low grumble from the effort, and his tongue scraped against his scales with a _slop, slop, slop._

"Itchy Armpit it is," Hiccup decided, and he turned to look back down at his map. It was a sprawling creation, freed from its intricate folding and laid out on the grass in all its glory. Little sketches of landmarks from all the places he'd discovered filled the map, with various markings denoting the seas and other geographical features scattered along the parchment.

He'd been working on it for more than a year, taking every opportunity he could to either fly in a new direction or further in an old one than ever before until they came to land. His goal: create a map that would span all of the known world, or at least as far as he could go until his wanderlust was finally satisfied. Whichever came first, really.

This newest land that they'd discovered had been far to the east, beyond the (relatively) civilized reaches of the Barbaric Archipelago and into uncharted waters. Hiccup took another glance at the dense autumnal forests and rocky hills, eyeing the thick mist beneath them with curiosity. He would have to check out those areas after he was done drawing. For now, he traced rough outlines of the rises dotting the strange land, adding a few trees for good measure.

"So, what do you think we'll find out there, bud? Maybe some Timberjacks in the woods? A Whispering Death or two in the rocks?" Hiccup asked aloud, his charcoal pencil scribbling. Toothless nosed his way closer, warbling impatiently. "I guess you're right, there's only one way to find out. Let me just… finish…" Hiccup bit down gently on his tongue, nudging Toothless away and focusing as he took another glance at the land and tried to finish his small sketch.

"_RAWK!"_

Hiccup froze, thankfully keeping his pencil off of the parchment. Toothless startled too, whirling around on his feet to look for the source of the shriek.

"_RAEEEE!"_

Hiccup looked over his shoulder, body relaxing with relief as he saw the Deadly Nadder coming in hot. The birdlike dragon lifted over the cliff and stuck out her legs, lowering and tearing her claws through the ground in order to land. The Nadder squawked happily, stamping her feet on the grass as she zeroed her golden eyes on Hiccup. A figure sat on the dragon's back, bundled up in thick furs and a warm hood.

Astrid peeled her hood back and the sunlight caught her face and blonde hair. Hiccup bit back a sputter. Was she actually glowing, or was that just his mind's perception of her? Her blue eyes lit up and she smiled as Toothless came bounding over to her and Stormfly. "Hello, boys! You sure made us work for this one." She slid down from Stormfly's back and briefly rubbed Toothless' head before the Night Fury engaged Stormfly to play. Both dragons clucked at one another and ran off in a mad dash in the other direction.

"Afternoon, milady. What've you been up to?" Hiccup inquired as he turned back to his map and started drawing again. He took another glance at the landscape as Astrid crumpled into a seated position at his side. She flicked a lock of her flaxen hair out of her face, beaming.

"Oh, winning races, what else? You missed a good one, I stole the black sheep from Ruff and Tuff by jumping between Barf and Belch," Astrid recalled. She paused for a second, considering the accuracy of the statement, "Well, I guess it was really just Ruff's black sheep, since Snotlout and Fishlegs kept giving her all the sheep they grabbed to try and—get this—_win her affection."_

Hiccup scoffed and rolled his eyes, "That's still going on? I guess it was only a matter of time before they started throwing races for her."

"Like, come on, there have to be better ways to win a girl's heart than that."

"Yeah," Hiccup agreed. A sly smile snuck onto his face. "They should try getting their fathers to arrange betrothal contracts. It worked for me."

Astrid snickered and gently punched his armored shoulder. She dropped down to sit next to Hiccup on the ground. "So, I've told you about my day—the better question is what have _you_ been doing? You said you were going to be at the race."

Hiccup ran a hand through his hair, "Yeah, I was going to… but speaking of my father, I'm kind of avoiding him."

Astrid frowned, "That might explain his mood earlier. What happened?" She gestured for his pencil, and he handed it to her so that she could continue the drawing while he shared his story.

"Oh, you're gonna love this. We sit down to eat breakfast and he asks about you. I tell him you're doing good. Then he asks when we're going to be having a kid, that was fun." Astrid paled, lifting the charcoal from the map and gulping. "And then he gets into the real zinger, clearly buttering me up with the whole 'son, you're the pride of Berk, and I couldn't be prouder'." Hiccup rumbled, mimicking the characteristic lilt in Stoick's voice.

"Oh, I know where this is going," Astrid interjected. She bounced her shoulders a bit and huffed. Hiccup cocked an eyebrow, and Astrid drawled out a response with a dramatically augmented voice, "'Aw, well thanks, Dad, I'm pretty impressed with myself, too!'"

Hiccup couldn't help but laugh, catching his breath as Astrid laughed with him, "Well, first of all, I kind of did—a-are you sure you weren't by the window listening in the whole time?" They shared another laugh. She knew him too well. "Second, I don't sound like that, and third… what is that thing that you're doing with your shoulders?"

"You know, that thing you do where you—" Astrid paused and mimicked the move again, shoulders bounding around like a couple of Terrors begging for fish, "like that."

"I don't do that," Hiccup protested, unable to hide his grin or his snicker as he tried to look offended.

"You definitely do."

"Okay, really flattering impressions notwithstanding—" Astrid started imitating him again and Hiccup stooped down to grab her arms. "Hold still—" he said in his impression of his dad's voice. Gods, he just couldn't stay upset with her, "this is serious," he added jokingly, and she mocked him by pouting in his face. Hiccup snickered and dropped her hands. His dad's words once again blistered through his mind and he sighed, dejected.

"Oh, gods, so then he goes, and I quote… _And so, since no chief could ask for a better successor, I have decided—" _he spoke in his Stoick impression again.

But before he could finish his thought, Astrid caught on, interrupting him with a gasp, "To make you Chief!" She shot to her feet, beaming with pride at her husband and snatching his hands from him to hold. "Hiccup, that's—"

The dragons bolted past them, an errant wing knocking Astrid into Hiccup's arms. Hiccup gasped and stumbled backward, his prosthetic leg betraying him and slipping out from underneath him. He promptly fell and dragged Astrid with him, landing on his back and ending up with Astrid laying on top of him.

"Ow," Hiccup said, sucking in a wheezing breath to hold on to what little wind was still in his lungs. He gazed up with blurry vision and froze as he met Astrid's bright blue eyes. Unable to help himself, he cracked a shy smile. "Hi, there."

"Hi," Astrid snickered. She kicked off of him and stood up, offering a hand to pull him up to his feet beside her. As soon as she yanked him to his feet, she was asking him more, much to his chagrin. "So, what did you tell him?"

"I didn't," Hiccup blurted, "Me and Toothless were out the door and in the air before he could even finish talking."

Astrid nodded in understanding—he could always count on her to see where he was coming from—and she stepped in the other direction, mind wandering and mouth rambling. "Well, it's a lot of responsibility. The map will have to wait, and I'll need to fly Toothless since you'll be too busy. And…" Astrid turned to look over her shoulder at him, freezing as she realized he wasn't saying anything else. Hiccup held his expression in a tight, flat line, trying to keep the emotion off of his face even as he spoke sadly.

"It's not me, Astrid. None of it. All those speeches, and running the village—I can barely hold my own at The Thing, how am I supposed to lead an entire village?" Hiccup lamented.

"I think you might be missing the point here. I mean, he wants to make you _Chief. _The highest honor in the whole village! I'd be pretty excited if it were me."

Hiccup turned to walk back towards his map, reaching for his helmet on the ground next to it. "I'm not like you, Astrid. You know exactly who you are and exactly what you want. You always have. Me… I'm still looking."

Hiccup sat down in front of his map and, carefully, Astrid sat down by his side. As he grabbed his pencil to give his fingers something to do, she curled an arm around his left shoulder and laid her head on his right, eyeing the new land sprawling out in front of them. "Hiccup, just because you don't think you know who you are doesn't mean you aren't any good. You know what I think? I think that you don't give yourself enough credit. Think about what you've accomplished. You changed the culture of an entire people. You ended a three hundred-year long war and kept new ones from breaking out because of it. You've done more for the betterment of your people than any Chief before you, and you're not even the Chief yet."

"I didn't exactly do all of that on my own, though."

Astrid sat up again. "You won me over. The stubborn, picture-perfect Viking who had never wanted anything more in her life than to kill dragons. That has to count for something," she suggested. Hiccup allowed himself a small smile and Astrid started to braid some of the locks of dark hair near the base of his neck. His hair was littered with similar braids; he never bothered to take them out even if he claimed that he didn't love them. "What I'm trying to say is… this thing that you're searching for, it isn't out there. You can explore all you want, but what you're looking for is _in here, _Hiccup." She placed a hand over his heart. "Maybe you just don't know what it is yet. But you're going to find it when you're Chief, I know it. And you know that no matter what, we'll tackle this together. You're always going to have me."

Astrid lifted her head and pecked her husband on the cheek. A string of slimy saliva followed her and fell against her chin, and she seized up, recoiling with a disgusted mewl. _"Ugh!"_

"What?"

"_Hiccup, babe," _Astrid sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Hiccup winced, knowing that he was in trouble just from her tone. "We have _got _to work with Toothless on his licking habit."

Hiccup's face flushed a beet red color, "Oh. Yeah, um… I forgot he did that." He raised his left arm and dutifully tried to rub Toothless' slobber off of his face. It was a thin layer, the last residue of the dragon's enthusiastic licking from earlier. That didn't entirely wipe away Astrid's displeasure.

"You know that doesn't wash out easy," she chastised.

"I do."

Astrid rubbed her lips and chin off on one of her bracers, thankful for how easily the slobber clung to the fur. She'd have to wash it later. She glanced over her shoulder at Stormfly, who was running circles around Toothless behind them.

"Hey, why don't we go for a flight to take your mind off things?" Astrid suggested. Hiccup immediately brightened, making her heart pound.

When he answered, it was like all of his problems were suddenly washed away. "I'd love to."

* * *

Hiccup and Toothless were something else when they were in the air. Astrid had known as much for years, but it still blew her mind every time they took to the skies and became one. She thought that she had a strong bond with Stormfly, but Hiccup and Toothless' connection put that to shame.

They weaved and rolled through and around the tufts of clouds dotting the blue sky, Hiccup changing Toothless' false tailfin to mimic the other one for every possible maneuver. The level of understanding one another that it took for their teamwork to pay off was impossible to match. Hiccup knew every little thing that Toothless needed to be successful in flight and provided them. Together, they were virtually unstoppable. They twisted and turned through the air, pulling off acrobatic spins and loops like they were nothing, and at one point, they disappeared into the cloud cover above them completely.

"Where'd they go, girl?" Astrid whispered. Stormfly took in a big sniff, mulling over Toothless' strong scent. Before the Nadder could plot together the hiding Night Fury's trail, the clouds broke at Astrid's side.

"Afternoon, milady," Hiccup said as he and Toothless passed her from above. Toothless had turned upside-down, pointing his belly to the sky. The Night Fury craned his neck upward to look at her and warbled, sweet green eyes flashing with pride. Hiccup dangled above Astrid from his saddle, grinning, and he pulled his helmet up so that Astrid could see his face.

"Hi. Are you feeling any better?" Astrid asked.

"You always know how to cheer me up, Doctor Astrid," Hiccup answered with a smirk. He clicked his tongue at Toothless and the Night Fury turned right side up again, and Hiccup guided him down to Astrid's side with a light tug. Toothless' and Stormfly's wings nearly touched, just inches apart as they sliced the wind.

"Well, I'm glad my prescription worked." Astrid squinted up at the sun, noting the time, "We've only got a couple more hours until sunset. Should we head back to Berk?"

"Just a few more minutes," Hiccup said, and he pulled his mask down as he slid his prosthetic foot forward to lock Toothless' fin in place. "I want to try something."

Astrid knew that tone, and that motion. "Hiccup," she warned. She _hated_ it when he did this. It scared her to death every time.

"Astrid, it'll be fine. Besides, it's even safer with you than without you. This way, if something happens to Toothless, you can catch me."

"That is not reassuring me at all."

Hiccup ignored her and patted Toothless on the neck, "Ready, bud?" Toothless let out a low, long grumble.

"I'm pretty sure that's dragon for 'no'," Astrid protested.

"Aw, Astrid, c'mon. It's in the name of science. I can make you one, too, if it'll make you feel better," Hiccup pouted. Honestly, he could be so childish sometimes. It was part of his brand.

"No, thank you."

"Suit yourself," Hiccup shrugged and rolled his neck, generating a satisfying _pop_. Then, without a word, he slid right off of the saddle and fell. Astrid's chest seized and she tried to bark out a _wait, _but she was much too late. He was already plummeting, and Toothless flapped downward to chase after him, never allowing himself to fall too far behind.

"_Rawk?" _Stormfly squawked, cocking her head slightly in Astrid's direction so she could see her rider.

"I know, girl. I hate it when he does that, too. Come on, let's go follow them." Astrid directed Stormfly down and they dove after Hiccup and Toothless. Far down below, Hiccup slid his arms into the latches of his flight suit and tugged, opening the synthetic wings. The wind caught him, and he shot upward, closely followed by Toothless extending his wings and pulling up as well. Astrid got Stormfly to mimic them, keeping from crashing into Hiccup or Toothless as the two ascended once again. Hiccup quickly reached across his chest and pressed the button controlling the dorsal fin attachment, allowing him to streamline his gliding.

Stormfly glided in beside them and Astrid called over the wind at him. "Okay, babe, you've done your crazy trick. Can you get back on Toothless now, please?"

"A couple more minutes, Astrid!" Hiccup half-begged, half-shouted. "This is amazing! The wind in my hair—" Hiccup kept wobbling through the sky, voice carrying on the wind. Toothless fired an excited, errant blast past Hiccup, which exploded up ahead of him and allowed Hiccup to show off with an acrobatic twist. He was like a little kid on Snoggletog, hooting and hollering, and it actually made Astrid soften.

That was, until they glided through a hazy cloud and found themselves hurtling toward a sea stack.

"No longer amazing! Toothless, help!" Hiccup cried.

"Hiccup!" Astrid shouted. Toothless pumped his wings but struggled to make up ground—he'd grown lazy and fallen too far behind, and his wingbeats were not enough to correct that on his own with a prosthetic tailfin, even if it was locked in place. Astrid spurred Stormfly towards Hiccup, able to mush the dragon to Hiccup so Toothless could relax. The Nadder reached out her claws and snagged Hiccup's shoulders, and with a quick jerk they dodged out of the way of the sea stack. Toothless promptly followed, rolling sideways to escape the rocks.

The Itchy Armpit sprawled beneath them as Hiccup dangled from Stormfly's claws. "Well, that went a little better than last time. At least we didn't crash," Hiccup said lamely.

"_That's _your idea of progress?" Astrid asked, bewildered. "You're not a dragon, Hiccup."

"Astrid, if we don't keep trying, we'll never figure it out."

"Babe, I'm sorry, but if you keep trying, you just might get yourself killed."

"Well, as you can see, I'm _fine!"_ Hiccup suddenly snapped. Astrid tensed up and leaned over the side of her dragon to glare down at Hiccup, still hanging in Stormfly's clutches. Her face was colored red with anger stemming from his outburst, but there was a flash of concern there, too. They passed over the cliff they'd been on previously, inadvertently delving deeper through the Itchy Armpit. Trees with multicolored leaves flitted along on the ground, creating a blur of orange and red as Hiccup looked up to meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Hiccup said immediately. "C-can you just let me back on Toothless, please? We can head home now."

Astrid nodded and turned her head towards Toothless, making a silent gesture that told the Night Fury to fly underneath them as Stormfly slowed. Toothless did so, and Stormfly released her hold on Hiccup's shoulders so that he dropped back into his saddle on the Night Fury's back. Hiccup disengaged the lock on Toothless' tailfin and went to work tucking his false wings back into their pockets and lowering the fin on his back. He lifted his helmet up so that the sun caught his face again.

As he reset his feet on the stirrups, Astrid suddenly spotted the smoke in the distance for the first time. It was a black cloud more than a hundred feet tall, and still growing as whatever fire that had spawned it apparently continued to rage.

Hiccup started apologizing profusely, head hanging and eyes pointed lazily down at Toothless' head. His words spilled out in a haze of regret, broken up and stressed. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, Astrid, I just feel so stretched thin. I felt great for a minute and then it stopped working and I failed, and—"

"Hiccup."

"And what if that's what it'll be like with me as Chief? Mild successes until something else happens and brings everything crashing down—"

"Hiccup."

"What if that's what I am? A failure? A guy that can only do anything right if it involves dragons?"

"Hiccup. Do you see that?" Astrid raised her voice to finally get his attention and pointed at the smoke. He looked up and his rambling immediately stopped, sucking in a panicked breath. Astrid turned her head to look at him, hanging below and just off to the side from Stormfly.

"Let's go check it out," Hiccup said, and he pulled down the face of his helmet. "C'mon, bud!"

Toothless flapped his wings and generated a burst of speed, and Astrid followed without a word.

* * *

They zoomed over miles of forest, flying directly due north towards the huge cloud of smoke. A rocky ridge passed beneath them, and immediately on the other side they stumbled upon a forest. The trees had burned to a crisp, blackened trunks secreting smoke that added to the cloud in the sky. Embers and small flames continued to flicker on the scorched earth. The entire wood had been leveled by fire.

"What happened here?" Astrid asked out loud, scanning the charred forest with worrisome eyes.

"Whatever it was, it just happened. There wasn't any smoke before we went flying," Hiccup deduced. He looked ahead, where more of the smoke was wafting into the sky.

A short flight later, the forest suddenly dropped off into the ocean, a great cliff separating the land from the sea. Without stopping, Hiccup and Astrid curved and flew along the side of the bluff, suddenly pulling up as the cliff face ended and gave way to a lowered shore.

A huge, very man-made structure had been built into the cliffs.

"A fort? Why all the way out here?" Hiccup asked himself aloud. The building was a good two stories tall, maybe even three, and it was also ruined. The remains of several fires continued to burn around the grounds, and the walls and pathways lining the fort were littered with rubble, some of them completely collapsed. The plaza at the foot of the structure had a significant fissure running through its middle and jagged rocks the size of bola balls stacked up in various places, several platforms hanging from above having collapsed. In many places, clusters of cages had been melted or destroyed, their bars twisted into irreparable messes of metal.

Beyond the plaza were the docks, or at least what used to be the docks. Several of the wooden pathways had collapsed, splintered wood floating in the sea and clogging up the port. A single ship remained, and it was surprisingly the one thing in the area that was in decent shape. It had two sails made of blue cloth bearing intricate white patterns, and the deck was wider and more spacious than the longships Hiccup and Astrid were used to seeing. Its wooden hull was slightly damaged, but it was nothing that would keep the vessel from being seaworthy.

"Not sure it's much of a fort anymore," Astrid said, "Someone attacked this place, and whoever was here lost."

Hiccup nodded, but confusion was written across his face. "Looks that way. But shouldn't there be someone here? If somebody took this fort, they should be occupying it."

Astrid steered Stormfly closer, examining the sets of ruined cages decorating the plaza. "That's weird… it kind of looks like—"

"_Fire!"_

A sudden _thwack _from behind split the air along with the command, and Hiccup nearly spun on his heels in the saddle. A net came hurtling toward him and Toothless, and he quickly jerked Toothless out of the way, "Look out!"

Astrid wasn't as prepared, the net moving too fast to be beaten by her delayed reaction. She squeezed her legs into Stormfly's sides and the Nadder tried to swerve out of the way, only for the heavy net to catch and wrap around her tail, immediately weighing Stormfly down. The Nadder squawked and pounded the air with her wings, to no avail. The dragon's instincts went into overdrive and she thrashed, shaking so violently that she launched Astrid from the saddle. Astrid flailed and began to fall, hurtling for certain death.

"_Hiccup!" _she outright screamed.

"Astrid!" Hiccup shouted, "Toothless, get her!" Toothless dove down, screaming through the air. Astrid heard them coming and reached up to be grabbed.

Hiccup instantly leaned off the edge of his own saddle, swinging his hand out and catching Astrid's forearm. He stopped her just enough for Astrid to grab his upper arm with her other hand, and she dangled off of Toothless' side as the Night Fury circled the fort.

"Gotcha."

"Thanks," Astrid breathed, and she turned her head to see Stormfly smack into the ground. Out of nowhere, men spilled into the open from either side, some coming from the ship and others emerging from hiding amongst the rubble of the fort.

"That net came from the ship," Astrid said. She scrambled into the back of the saddle behind Hiccup, fastening her hands around his waist to keep steady.

Hiccup nodded, recognizing the threat through gritted teeth. "Dragon trappers." They'd encountered the like before, uncommon as they were, but even just a few meetings had made trappers detestable enemies of the dragon riders of Berk. Some were contracted by settlers to deal with wild dragon problems, but others captured for the purpose of killing later on.

As the trappers closed in, Hiccup guided Toothless to the ground and let Astrid jump to Stormfly's defense. He promptly slid off of Toothless' opposite side, brandishing his sword, a weapon he'd dubbed Inferno. The blade emerged from within the hilt and caught fire with a dull roar. Toothless bared his teeth and Astrid pulled her axe from its place on Stormfly's side, forming a protective layer of two humans and one dragon around the grounded Nadder.

Surprisingly, the horde of trappers stopped in their tracks. Hiccup counted at least 30 of them in all. Some of them eyed Hiccup's blazing sword, awestruck by the sight.

"Don't come any closer!" Hiccup warned, if only to make himself seem more threatening. He was sure that Astrid seemed far more lethal—and she was—but he knew his stature was unremarkable and many of these trappers were larger than he was. Fortunately, Toothless seemed to stop the men in their tracks more effectively, teeth bared and purple light glowing in the back of his throat.

"Soil my britches!" a voice called from Astrid's side of the huddle. Hiccup cocked his head over his shoulder to find the source, and a tall man waded through the crowd of trappers to the front. He was admittedly rather handsome, with neck-length black hair and a few thick lines made from silvery ink tattooed into his chin. He wore a smile, pleased.

"Perhaps our luck has turned for the better after all, lads—the Rider steals our haul, but then a Deadly Nadder and a _Night Fury _drift into our path." He looked back at Toothless, gesturing to the jet-black dragon for all to see. "Gotta say, I don't think Drago has one of _those_ in his dragon army!"

"Dragon army?" Astrid repeated softly. The sound of those words made Hiccup tense up. They didn't line up with the goals of any trappers he'd encountered before. Trappers were workers for hire, not conquerors.

"Look, we don't want any trouble," he tried, fully aware of how unlikely that sounded.

The handsome man scoffed, "Maybe you should've thought of that before you and your friend stole all of our dragons," he stabbed a finger at the ruined fort, "and blasted our fort to bits!"

Hiccup's brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait, you think that _we _did all of this?"

"Who else?" Eret scowled. "Look, dragon trapping is hard enough as it is without do-gooder dragon riders swooping in and taking our stock."

Hiccup scoffed and looked at Astrid, who appeared equally confused. "What do-gooder…" he paused, the words repeating in his head and the ramifications of them dawning on him. He'd mentioned a 'rider' when he'd first opened his mouth, but Hiccup had glossed over it. Now, he realized he'd meant _dragon rider. _There was someone else. Of course, the other tribes in the archipelago had turned dragon-friendly, but none of them had nearly as many riders as Berk and they were also far from this place. Whoever this person was, they weren't a Viking. "You mean there are other dragon riders?"

"Other than you and your thieving friend from an hour ago? You tell me. What, did he send you to do clean-up?" the man accused, "Make sure you'd taken every dragon that we had?"

Hiccup's brow furrowed. Whoever this other dragon rider was, they'd just missed him. "We don't know what you're talking about, and we don't know of another dragon rider," Astrid said with a scowl, "Let us go, and we can forget this ever happened."

"Not a chance," the trapper said, "All of our dragons are gone, and our base of operations is destroyed. How do you suggest that we explain this mess to Drago Bludvist?"

"Drago… what?" Hiccup said, in disbelief, "Does anything you say make sense?"

Another trapper stepped forward, careful not to come too close to the dragon riders. He had a fat, low-hanging chin and his hair was long and dirty blonde, the ends braided intricately so that they couldn't fall in front of his face. "He's expecting a new shipment of dragons for his army by the end of the week."

"And he doesn't appreciate excuses," the handsome trapper said, "The last time one of his men showed up with no dragons, it didn't end well for him. He promised the rest of us he'd be far less understanding in the future."

"Sounds like you need a new boss…" Hiccup said dryly. The trapper's eyes narrowed. "Look, we don't know anything about a do-gooder dragon rider or a dragon army or anything of the kind. We just saw the smoke from your fort and thought we should investigate. If you just give us back our dragon, we'll go…" Hiccup glanced at Astrid and Stormfly, "strange hostile person whom we've never met."

The trapper shot a humored look to his comrades, "Oh, forgive me, where are my manners? My name's Eret, son of Eret…" the trapper slid both hands behind his back and unsheathed a pair of swords with short but wide blades, gleaming and deathly sharp. His men behind him carefully leveled their weapons in their direction, ready to join him. "Only the finest dragon trapper to ever stalk these waters. After all, it's not just anyone who can capture a Night Fury." He pointed one sword in Toothless' direction, smirking.

"You'd be surprised," Hiccup said. Toothless snarled, and Hiccup knew that the dragon had found a way out of their situation. They'd kept this _Eret-son-of-Eret _talking, and Toothless had done the heavy lifting. Hiccup gestured to his best friend, "This is Toothless, and he says we're going. _Now."_

Eret laughed and pointed one of his swords at them. "They all say that. _Get them!"_

"_Toothless, now!"_

Toothless aimed at a stack of barrels arranged on a ledge and loosed a bolt of plasma. The blast flew over the trappers' heads, and Eret shot a brief look at Hiccup that said, _'you missed'._ The plasma blast smashed into the ledge and blew it apart, allowing the barrels to suddenly roll down a pile of rubble and into the plaza straight at the trappers. Eret whirled around at the sound and Astrid immediately turned to Stormfly's tail, slashing her axe through the net holding her down. The Nadder promptly rose to her feet with a loud squawk, and Eret turned back around to face them, taken by surprise.

The barrels hurtling towards his men connected with some of them and burst, spilling oil and various other liquids across the floor. A few of the trappers slipped on the slick stone, shouting. On Hiccup's side, the trappers charged, and Toothless immediately sent another blast into one of the trappers before spinning across the ground to sweep the legs out from a half-dozen men.

"Go, go!" Hiccup shouted, and Astrid mounted Stormfly as he did the same with Toothless. Both dragons took off, lifting off of the ground and out of the reach of the trappers. To pick up speed, they looped around the fort, and Stormfly blasted a beam of fire onto the fluids from the barrels, which instantly lit up in a flash of flame.

Eret snarled from the ground as he watched them leave, waving one of his twin swords at them and shouting at the top of his lungs, "You will never hold onto those dragons, do you hear me!? Drago is coming for them all!"

Hiccup wasn't keen to indulge Eret, and he and Astrid quickly flapped away, leaving the fort behind. Once they were safely out of reach from the trappers' weapons, Hiccup took his eyes off of the ruined fort and the damage they'd left behind. He appraised Astrid with a worried stare until she finally looked over at him, a similar expression of panic scrawled across her features.

"We need to get back to Berk."

Astrid nodded, concerned. "I know."

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**Please leave a review if you'd be so kind and let me know how I'm doing so far. Chapter 3 will be going up by this time next week. Thanks again for reading.**


	3. Northern Trouble

**Here's where we split pretty definitively from established canon. It's a small change, but I imagine that had it actually occurred, the consequences might've been something along the lines of how it goes here.**

**Thank you all who have reviewed so far, and do let me know what you think of this chapter!**

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_**3\. Northern Trouble**_

After two hours of fast, reckless flying, the sea finally gave way to the image of the Isle of Berk. First, Raven Point crept over the horizon, growing down little by little and widening until the forests and the foothills dotted with houses came into view. They'd headed straight home from the Itchy Armpit, racing like Sól and Máni across the skies. To the west, the sun was slowly dipping toward the edge of the world, maybe half an hour away from painting the blue sky with the first streaks of sunset. Hiccup looked over and Astrid met his eyes, worry again flashing through her blue irises. There was a twinge of relief there, though, pleased to finally be home.

Hiccup was less so. The encounter with the trappers remained fresh on his mind, both the good news and the frightening bad news. There was another dragon rider who couldn't possibly be a Viking somewhere out there, but also somewhere else there was a crazed warlord building an army of dragons. That bit of information was more important, for the time being.

Hiccup glanced down as they passed over Berk's harbor, dirt roads and houses replacing the impossibly blue surface of the sea and racing beneath them in a blur. A long time ago, a dragon flying over Berk would attract loads of attention and more than a few war cries. These days, it was such a common occurrence that no one even batted an eye anymore. To be fair, it hadn't been easy to establish the integration, nor to spread their newfound ideals to their allies throughout the archipelago. Some days, when Hiccup thought about it, he could still feel the bruises and lacerations on his body from the Berserker and Outcast Wars, when Dagur and Alvin had made war against Berk over their peace with dragons. Those had been dark days, but all of them had led to the sunnier skies and greener pastures of today. Now, the archipelago was at peace, he was married to the love of his life, and all was right with the world.

He should've known that these times wouldn't last forever.

Hiccup and Astrid landed on the front lawn of the Haddock house, immediately falling under its shadow. The figure of a Rumblehorn's head hung over the front door, closely mirroring the head of an _actual _Rumblehorn laying on the roof and soaking in the evening sunlight. The large dragon made a greeting grunt, its neck and upper back hunched over its small head. Its wings draped over the roof.

"Hi, Skullcrusher," Hiccup said. He waved to the dragon, but he neglected to acknowledge him further and returned to resting. Hiccup turned his eyes to the front door, growing queasy as he recalled the half-finished conversation with his father from this morning.

Hiccup steeled himself. His father needed to know what they'd seen and heard, the sudden uncomfortable wedge between them be damned. Still, he looked to Astrid for support as she sidled up beside him, and she grabbed his hand while offering a soft smile.

"Stay here, girl," Astrid called to Stormfly. The Nadder squawked and immediately re-engaged Toothless for additional playtime. Hiccup envied them. It was just another day for the dragons, albeit with a little extra exercise and high blood pressure. For Hiccup, today had turned out to be something else entirely.

They approached the door and heard the faint sounds of muffled laughter slipping through the cracks. Hiccup gently pushed the door open and the sound amplified as it escaped through the enlarging opening, an uproarious chortle courtesy of none other than Stoick the Vast. The massive Chief leaned forward against the kitchen counter, Gobber sitting in a stool across from him. Each man held a wide wooden mug, no doubt full of ale.

The door let out a pitiful creak, tipping off the two older Vikings inside the house. Gobber turned in his seat and gave Hiccup a hard look in particular. "Ah, there 'e is! My dependable apprentice!"

Hiccup grimaced, "Sorry about work, Gobber." The smith snorted at the half-apology.

"Normally, ye're just late. This time, you missed work entirely. Fortunately for you, 'tis a slow day. But as recompense for saddlin' poor old Gobber with workin' alone, ye're cleanin' the stall tonight."

Hiccup shrugged. "That's fair. I'll get to it soon."

Stoick raised his mug in their direction, headbutting his way into the conversation. "Welcome home. Ale?"

Astrid blew air from her nose, pulling her hand away from Hiccup's and walking towards an empty stool. "I think I need one after what we just saw," She sat in the seat and Stoick gladly filled an unused mug with some ale and passed it to his daughter-in-law.

"Son?" Stoick asked, offering Hiccup a drink as well.

"I'm good. Dad, can I have a word?"

Stoick glanced at Gobber and a giddy smile poked through his thick beard. "See, Gobber? I told you he's ready. Astrid bringing him home proves as much." Stoick set his mug down and reaffixed his grin and gleaming eyes on Hiccup, rubbing his huge hands together excitedly. "So, when shall we make the big announcement? Thor's Day? Freya's Day?" Stoick asked with a giddy lilt in his voice that left the question hanging, putting the onus all on Hiccup.

Hiccup gawked. His eyes drifted away from Stoick, sheepish. "That's not really the itch I'm looking to scratch right now, Dad." Gobber snorted and muttered something along the lines of _I told you so _at Stoick. Hiccup glimpsed at Astrid, who was watching him purposefully, and gestured between the two of them. "Wehave something important we need to tell you about. Something big."

Astrid craned her neck to refocus on Stoick and the Chief's eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them. He pondered the looks on their faces and suddenly, a characteristic sparkle took shape in his calculating green orbs, and a soft gasp pierced the tense air.

Stoick beamed, and then he began absolutely bursting with laughter. The sound echoed off the walls and Stoick reached out a muscular arm to snatch Astrid's mug of ale away, sliding it back across the counter towards him. Astrid huffed with a hint of indignance, though her expression was flushed with confusion.

"Truly? Oh, congratulations, you two," Stoick gushed. Hiccup flinched at Stoick's bursting pride and the Chief rounded the counter, clapping Gobber on the shoulder. The blacksmith raised his mug of ale at Hiccup and Astrid, likewise grinning and repeating Stoick's well-wishes. Stoick's voice boomed, drowning Gobber out. "And we were just speaking of it this morning! Truly a blessing from the gods! After all these months, finally, a grandchild is on the way!"

"_What?" _Hiccup and Astrid both sputtered in perfect unison. Stoick stopped his revelry and glanced at them, his bushy eyebrows knitting together. Hiccup met Astrid's eyes, his very head pounding with anxious discomfort.

He looked back at Stoick too quickly. "You think—"

"That's not—" Astrid stammered, flustered.

"I worded that all wrong."

"Yeah, I mean if we…" Astrid glanced back at Hiccup, trailing off as she lost her ability to find words. She looked positively flabbergasted.

"If we were going to have a baby," Hiccup tried to fill the gap she'd left, "We'd let you know in a much happier... circumstance than this."

Astrid nodded repeatedly, as eager to get the topic dropped as she had been to tie the knot with Hiccup back in autumn. "Exactly. There's no baby, Stoick."

Stoick exchanged a look with Gobber and deflated, shoulders sinking a bit. He lifted a hand to his helmet and adjusted it, even though it looked perfectly fine anyway. "Alright," he muttered, "then what's so important that it needs to be said?" He looked mildly annoyed now, like his hopes for the entire day had just been stepped on.

Hiccup sucked in a breath, hoping to right the ship and get back to the very pressing matter of what they'd seen. "I need to talk to you about this new land that we came across." For the second time in as many moments, Stoick deflated, shaking his head in that grumpy way that he always did when Hiccup had done something he didn't like.

"Another one?" Gobber interjected, "What'd you find now?"

"For starters, that it was occupied. And the people there weren't particularly friendly."

Gobber scoffed, scooting his stool a step in their direction. "Oh, really? Your Night Fury and Deadly Nadder didn't bring them cheering to the rooftops, praisin' the gods for their good fortune? Who could've possibly expected tha'?" Gobber swigged from his ale, lifting the mug attached to his prosthetic to his lips and sighing with relief.

"This time was different, Gobber."

Stoick turned away and reclaimed his drink with taut fingers, taking out his displeasure on the mug's handle. "Hiccup, we've talked about this. You're going to be the Chief, and a Chief's first duty is to his people. You can't fulfill that duty if you're off trying to map the world and mingle with foreigners!"

"I know, but if you just let me finish, you're going to be really relieved that I was—"

"Son, I admire your tenacity, but this is serious."

"So is what I'm trying to tell you!"

Astrid cut in next, "Stoick, this wasn't the usual run-for-the-hills, Ragnarök-is-nigh type of thing we usually get. We caught wind of something that you should really hear." Genuine concern flashed across her face.

Stoick held Astrid's gaze for a moment, and he reluctantly nodded. He took a quick sip from his ale and swilled it around in his mouth for a moment. "Clearly this is bothering both of you."

"It was a group of dragon trappers," Hiccup blurted, "Astrid saw some smoke over the hill, and we went to investigate. What we found was the ruins of their fort. They ambushed us."

"Ambushed? Are you hurt?" Stoick asked, setting his mug down a little too heavily in his spike of shock. Now, he was engaged.

"No, luckily Toothless got us out of there."

Gobber fingered the braided ends of his mustache, working out a kink in the hair. He shook his head as he dropped his hand, not nearly as worried as Stoick looked. "You know, one of these days you two're going to get into some serious trouble."

"Gobber's right, son. You need to be more careful," Stoick concurred, assuming quite wrongly that was all that was the matter. It irked Hiccup. He'd grown up being constantly dismissed and hadn't missed that kind of treatment one bit. Now, he suspected that his very unique refusal to discuss succeeding Stoick was bringing out that old side of his father again. Perhaps Stoick didn't even realize it.

"That's not what I'm trying to tell you—"

"Starting now, I want you to quit your little expeditions."

"Dad—"

"You have duties to both your people and your wife…" Stoick kept chastising, and Astrid visibly squirmed at the implication.

"Dad."

"And I have had enough of you shirking those responsibilities—"

"Oh, for Thor's sake, listen to me!" Hiccup yelled, dragging his hands across his face. Stoick and Gobber both looked at him, surprised. Hiccup ran a hand through his thick hair and paced the room. Out of instinct, Astrid stood up from her seat, ready to step in and try to calm him down. Hiccup turned back to face Gobber and his father and he said, very plainly, "They are _building_ a _dragon army."_

Stoick froze, and slowly, he released his hold around the handle of his mug, splaying his other massive hand out on the counter as he leaned forward. Gobber nearly turned around in his seat to look at Hiccup, mouth slightly opened in surprise and revealing his false tooth.

"What?" Gobber blurted. Hiccup nodded fervently as if to say _I know, right!?_

"Well—at least, the guy they're working for is."

"Did you get a name?" Stoick asked, cautious. He rounded the corner of the counter once again, striding up beside where Gobber was sitting so that Hiccup was only a few feet away from him.

Hiccup wracked his brain, "I heard it, but it was a weird one. Let me think, uh… Dargo… Bloody-fist, something like that?"

The color drained from Stoick's face. Gobber turned again in his seat, looking at Stoick now. The old blacksmith wore a similar look of fear as he held the Chief's gaze. Hiccup noticed the look for only a second before his father was advancing on him.

"_Bludvist_?" Stoick asked. He stepped forward and set his hands onto Hiccup's shoulders. For the first time in his life, Hiccup saw his father's hands genuinely shake. "_Drago_ Bludvist?"

Hiccup's green eyes flashed with recognition, "Y-Yeah. That."

Stoick seemed to look through him, staring into the wall at his back. Astrid watched Stoick's frozen features and wrung her hands together, nervous. "Does that name mean something to you, Chief?"

Stoick dragged his hands back to his shoulders, rapidly clenching and unclenching his fists. He took a deep breath that made his body shiver and looked at Gobber again. The blacksmith remained frozen in his disbelief.

Then, Stoick walked towards the door.

"Dad?" Hiccup said, but Stoick didn't stop. "Dad, wait up." Stoick kept walking, footsteps heavy and purposeful. Gobber slid out of his seat, prompting Astrid to follow. "Okay, I get that I did this exact thing to you this morning, but I can see now how frustrating it must've been for you and I'd like it if you stopped," Hiccup tried as he followed his father, but still Stoick kept moving.

A cold spring breeze entered the house as Stoick ripped open the front door and thundered out onto the lawn. The aging Chief summoned a certain bellow from his lungs that he hadn't used in a long time, the kind that everyone on Midgard could manage to hear if they listened hard enough.

"_GROUND ALL DRAGONS!"_

The village collectively looked up the hill towards him, their Chief's words ringing in their ears. The setting sun had begun to send people back to their homes for the night, but without question, the people of Berk still in the streets instantly mobilized to follow Stoick's orders. Some sprinted to occupied houses and threw open the front doors to pass the word, while others scrambled to guide assorted dragons along toward the hangar beneath the island. Stoick turned back toward the house and Hiccup scrambled through the doorway into the yard.

"Dad, don't you think that's a bit of an overreaction?"

But Stoick wasn't looking at him when he turned around, his piercing eyes instead pointed to the roof. "Skullcrusher, come!" The Rumblehorn rose from his nap and gnashed his teeth in acknowledgement before getting from the roof to Stoick's side in a single bound. Stoick brushed the dragon's head with a loving finger and vaulted into the saddle on Skullcrusher's back, taking a split-second to situate himself.

Stoick clicked his tongue, and Skullcrusher took off.

"And there he goes," Hiccup deadpanned. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted for his dragon, "Toothless!" The Night Fury was nearby and bounded over, Stormfly on his tail as Astrid called out for her as well. Toothless slid in beside Hiccup and lowered his body so he could climb on, warbling worriedly as he looked up at Skullcrusher's retreating shape.

"I know, bud. Go," Hiccup mumbled, and Toothless winged into the air. Astrid and Stormfly kept close and they chased after Stoick.

"Dad, wait up!" Hiccup yelled, but if he could hear him, Stoick made no motion to suggest it. Skullcrusher kept flying, and Stoick roared orders to his people below as he made a lap around the village, shouting for everyone to drop everything and lead the dragons into the stables.

Berk was being prepared for lockdown.

Stoick turned his sights to the dragon hangar, its roof reaching over the eastern cliffside to make it visible to the village proper. It had been one of Hiccup's pet projects, a nest-like building built underneath Berk to make dragons without riders feel the most at home. Custom stables and dens carved into the rock, all-you-can-eat feeding pens, the whole works.

Skullcrusher flew off the edge of the island and corkscrewed, zooming in through the hangar's opened doors to greet a horde of dragons and a handful of Vikings. The Rumblehorn landed and Stoick leaped out of his saddle, his enormous form landing with a _thud_. Hiccup and Astrid dived in after him, haphazardly landing their dragons as Stoick marched through the hangar and bellowed.

"Seal the gates! Lower the storm doors!"

Gobber flew in behind them on the back of his dragon, Grump, and echoed Stoick's orders. "Ye heard the man, lock it down!" Vikings swarmed in and went to work, teaming together to keep the dragons calm while preparing to close the gates.

Hiccup slid off of Toothless, Astrid hot on his heels. Stoick kept shouting, swinging his huge arms as he dished out more orders. "Lock everything up! No dragon or Viking sets _foot _off of this island until I give the word!"

"Why?" Hiccup challenged, "Because some guy you knew is stirring up trouble a long way away from here?"

Stoick whirled on him, face red, "Because Drago Bludvist is a madman without conscience or mercy. And if he's building a dragon army, Berk is in greater danger than it's ever been." Stoick turned away again, pointing at one of the ledges in the hangar and shouting some more, "Secure the stables! Lock every stall!"

Hiccup scrambled around in front of Stoick, standing between the Chief and Skullcrusher. "Then let's go back out there. It's only been a few hours; we can find that trappers' ship again in the night and follow them to Drago to get our answers."

"No. We stay put and focus on fortifying the island."

"Dad, it's our duty to keep the peace!"

Stoick instantly contradicted him, "It is our _duty_ to protect our people, first and foremost."

"Then let me go and change his mind."

"There are some minds that won't be changed, Hiccup. I'm sorry, son, but we must now focus on preparing for war." Stoick powered past Hiccup, nudging him aside so he could pass. Hiccup whirled around and called to him again.

"War? Dad, just slow down."

Still, Stoick blustered forward, shouting out more orders and making it abundantly clear, whether he meant it or not, that he was through listening to Hiccup try and talk him down. More and more Vikings spilled into the hangar, offering their help with any task that needed it. Hiccup looked at the madness, irreparably out of his control, and he took a cautionary look at Toothless. The Night Fury warbled, ready to go.

Astrid stopped him, wrapping a hand around his arm. "Hiccup, don't do this."

Hiccup released a shaky breath. She tried to anchor him to the spot, to Berk, but for the life of him he could not rest. "I have to," he whispered, and he placed a careful kiss to his wife's forehead. Then, he slid his arm out of her grasp, pulling his fingers through hers as she tried to catch him and making a run for Toothless.

"Hiccup, wait!" she yelped. The sound of Astrid's voice caught Stoick's attention, and he turned around just in time to see Hiccup bolting towards Toothless.

"_Hiccup!" _the Chief roared. Hiccup didn't dare look back, knowing it would only slow him down. "Stop him!" Stoick added, and Vikings dropped what they were doing to look at the heir attempting to escape.

Toothless snarled as he took off, warding the nearest dragons away from them. The two of them made a sprint for the nearest storm door, but it promptly closed in their face. Toothless pulled up in a moment's notice and scanned the hangar for another opening, finally settling on the huge opening at the hangar's exit, their best chance.

"C'mon, bud!" Hiccup spurred, and Toothless let out a short roar as he flapped his wings as hard as he could to pick up speed. If they could just keep this pace, they'd...

"Skullcrusher, fire!"

Skullcrusher opened his maw and fired a burst of flame. The Rumblehorn's serrated teeth glowed in the sudden firelight, and the blast hurtled into Hiccup and Toothless' path. It struck the roof in front of them and exploded in a blinding flash, startling and disorienting Hiccup and Toothless alike.

Astrid's voice reached his ears as Hiccup tried to regain his composure, a mix of panic and anger. "Stoick, you'll hurt them!"

But as he often did, Stoick refused to listen. "Again!"

Skullcrusher loosed another blast, and this time it struck home. The flame connected with Toothless' hindquarters, knocking the Night Fury's entire backside around and ruining their flight path. Hiccup did his best to correct things by shifting the tailfin, but what little time the blast had cost them ended up being their undoing.

The huge door in front of them slammed shut, and Toothless rammed right into it, unable to get back to his previous speed despite desperately flapping his wings in order to do so. The sealed door didn't even budge, absorbing all of their force and dropping Hiccup and Toothless like flies. Toothless turned over and Hiccup fell from the saddle, frantically grabbing onto one of Toothless' legs as they plummeted to the floor. Just before they could crash-land, Hiccup pushed himself away from Toothless to avoid getting crushed, and he landed awkwardly on the ground before stumbling and falling. His armor absorbed most of the blow, thankfully.

"Toothless!" Hiccup heaved, and he moved to get up.

He was thwarted as someone grabbed him and held him down. Hiccup cocked his head, outraged, and recognized a familiar blonde mustache with braided ends. Gobber looked down on him sadly, holding Hiccup's hands behind his back with both his normal hand and his prosthetic hook.

"Let me go!" Hiccup shouted, thrashing like a maddened animal against the blacksmith's grip, "Gobber!"

Gobber sighed, dejected, "Stop fightin', laddie. You'll only make things worse."

Reluctantly, Hiccup obeyed, and an all too familiar shadow fell over him. Hiccup tilted his head up, expecting a beet-red face and a tongue-lashing the likes of which he hadn't seen since he was fifteen. Surprisingly, though, Stoick the Vast was not furious like Hiccup expected. Instead, he looked scared.

"Take my son to my house," Stoick wheezed, motioning for three nearby Vikings to join Gobber in holding Hiccup. "And wait for my return."

* * *

Night had fallen by the time Stoick finally made his way up the hill. His legs winced with every step, exhausted from the extra, very much unplanned evening activity. He had first returned to his house intending to have a drink with Gobber, prepare his dinner, and go to sleep early. He hadn't been surprised to see those plans change-something always happened to alter his ideal agenda for the day. This, though, was something he never could've expected. Berk hadn't been locked down like this for a long time, and Stoick had somewhat forgotten exactly what it was like. It was harder now, with the dragons. It was probably the only thing that the beasts ended up making more difficult, actually.

Gobber hobbled along beside him, wordless as his peg leg dragged across the ground. The blacksmith was even more exhausted than he was, but Gobber had refused to complain. Stoick had insisted that he got home and rest his legs and remove his prosthetic, but Gobber had sworn that he could handle a little pain and knew full well how to treat blisters, claiming he'd grown practically immune to them after so many years. Stoick didn't bother trying to chase the man off after that, knowing he wouldn't succeed. Gobber would've stood by his side to battle Surtr himself if need be.

They reached the top of the hill and Stoick stopped as he padded up to the door. He turned his back on the threshold, almost unwilling to enter as he looked upon the village. _His _village. Hiccup was on the other side of that door—under lock, key, and the watchful eye of three men he'd sent to guard his son in his old home. Stoick wanted to hope otherwise, but he knew that the hours of waiting would only have given Hiccup more time to stew.

His son had been so beside himself when he'd been marched away, but he'd kept to himself in front of the entire village, unwilling to beg and plead in front of them. But Stoick knew the emotions roiling through his head in that moment. Astrid had been livid when he'd explained his intentions and stomped away, irate and blowing steam from her ears. Toothless had been upset, too—the Night Fury had stalked toward the house that Hiccup and Astrid shared across the hill, the dragon knowing there was nothing he could do. Stoick admittedly didn't like it either. It was wrong to hold his son away from his wife. But he _had _to protect Hiccup. And he had to protect _Berk _at the same time. This was the only way to do both.

"Well, let's get in before we freeze to death," Stoick grunted. Even in the middle of spring, the nights grew quite cold. Gobber didn't reply but he knew the blacksmith had heard him, so Stoick turned to the door and pushed it open, welcoming the warmth that radiated around him as he crossed the threshold. Gobber followed, false leg scraping against the wood floors.

Stoick's eyes instantly crossed the room to find Hiccup. His son was sitting in a chair by the hearth, facing him. His auburn hair looked even longer in the dark, soaking in the blazing firelight from the pit and casting a shadow over most of his face.

He looked up and met Stoick's eyes, tensing. They held one another's gaze for several seconds, and Hiccup forcibly averted his eyes so he could return to staring at the fire.

"Am I a prisoner?" he uttered. He absently lifted his hands to feel the heat of the flames, even though he was surely warm enough already. Several more seconds passed, Stoick staring at Hiccup and Hiccup staring down into the fire. Gobber was watching them both off to the side, eyes absently flicking back and forth between them.

"I realize it's a bit of a rhetorical question," Hiccup added, finally looking up from the hearth again. His emerald gaze was harshly judgmental now, eyebrows crooked down across his forehead. "But I'd really appreciate a definitive answer."

Stoick couldn't bear to be spoken to like this anymore. It felt wrong, and he knew it was his own fault, but he still didn't like it. What he was doing to his son was a necessary evil to protect everyone, and he needed to try and make Hiccup understand that.

"Yes," he replied curtly, "Though it is not because I wish to make you one. You're being placed under guard here because I know you will disobey me."

Hiccup snorted and afforded a glance at his guards, all silent golems standing in the shadows and keeping him rooted to his seat. "And how long am I going to have four shadows?" he inquired bitterly.

"As long as is necessary," Stoick said. It was a non-answer that answered the question. Hiccup rolling his eyes confirmed as much.

"Where's Astrid?" Hiccup asked next.

"At your home, where she will stay."

"And Toothless?"

"Safe with her there." Stoick could already feel the eruption coming, the burst of anger that would come from one of them and turn the tense conversation into a full-blown argument.

"No one is safe while this Drago guy is out there," Hiccup grumbled.

"They are as safe as they _can _be," Stoick corrected. It didn't ease Hiccup's tension.

"Why are you doing this?" Hiccup asked, indignance welling up from within and bleeding from his voice.

"To protect you, and in so doing, protect Berk."

Hiccup raised his voice, "I'm not endangering Berk!"

"_You are, whether you realize it or not!" _Stoick bellowed. There it was. The explosion had come early this time around. He expected Hiccup would match his tone and shout back, but all that followed was silence. The tension froze them in place and Stoick breathed, his great chest rising like a tsunami. He reached up and dragged his helmet off of his head, the cold metal stinging his old fingers. He carefully rested the helmet on the hooks by the door, next to his various weapons; a hammer, a sword, and a great battle-axe.

Stoick paused, remembering how he'd drawn that sword on that terrible night so many years ago, heart hammering in his chest and the screams of burning men echoing endlessly in his ears. The memory haunted him like a specter, hanging darkly over his shoulder.

"You cannot make peace with Drago Bludvist. It is not possible."

"We won't know until we try," Hiccup replied, so damningly optimistic that it made Stoick want to punch his fist through his own wall. He numbed the urge, willing his blood to cool. There was so much to discuss, to explain, but it was too hard. How would he be able to tell Hiccup about that night, when Stoick couldn't even bear to relive it himself in silence? He couldn't darken his son's bright, hopeful little vision of the world, not when he still had him here and there was no reason to, yet. He had not yet tested his patience, not truly.

"Let me go," Hiccup pleaded, "Let me go, and I'll change Drago's mind. I'll save us. I'll stop the war from ever getting started."

Stoick turned on his heel at that, and he shook his head firmly. "No."

"Why not?" Hiccup snapped.

"You don't understand, son." He didn't want to say that _this is serious_, because he'd always said that to Hiccup and he knew that the boy recognized things were serious. "If you go to him, he'll kill you. It is what that man does. He harbors no mercy, no care for life."

"I can reason with him," Hiccup insisted, but Stoick shook his head.

"Men who kill without reason _cannot _be reasoned with, Hiccup."

"Maybe," Hiccup interjected, "But I can still try. This is what I'm good at, Dad. Please."

Stoick sighed and slowly looked over his shoulder. Gobber watched him, frowning sadly. The bags under his eyes were worsening, and Stoick suspected he looked similar. Stoick pointed his eyes to the floor, reluctant.

"You will be confined to this house while we prepare for war." He heard Hiccup's breath catch and he gestured to the guards loitering in the house. "Escort him to his old room. Take shifts standing guard. No one comes in or out without my explicit permission."

Two of the three men melted in from the shadows, padding over to Hiccup and grabbing him by the shoulders. Hiccup didn't resist, well aware that they would merely overpower him and take him upstairs much more embarrassingly if he did.

"Dad," he begged half-heartedly, resigned to his fate but still hoping, hoping, hoping.

"Please know that I take no joy in this, Hiccup. It is for your own good, and nothing more. A chief protects his own."

Hiccup's eyes flicked away from Stoick, and he knew that his boy was looking to Gobber for help now. The smith had always had such a soft spot for him, but Stoick knew Gobber wouldn't defy him. He knew that this was the right thing, difficult as it was.

"Gobber, c'mon…" Hiccup pleaded, "Talk some sense into him. Make him understand."

Stoick almost wished there was something to understand. Gobber had his ear like no other. The smith could do it if he tried hard enough. But even Gobber knew what Hiccup didn't know. He knew about that night, that awful, awful day when Drago Bludvist had come thundering into a hall on Meathead Island like a draugr, darkness seemingly billowing off of his black dreadlocks like some son of Hel herself.

When it became clear that Gobber would not help him, Hiccup at last fell silent. He focused his gaze straight ahead and set his jaw as he was led around to the staircase, held tight in the grip of two Vikings larger and burlier than he. The third guard followed from behind them. The steps clacked with their footsteps as they went up, and the ancient bedroom door that hadn't been used in months squeaked loudly as it was nudged open. The door clattered closed, there were a few more footsteps, and everything fell silent.

"Odin help us," Stoick gave a great, weary sigh, and he trudged across the room to the hearth, still blazing and dancing as it fed off of the logs. Carefully, he sat down in a chair, deliberately choosing a different one from the one Hiccup had apparently been sitting in for hours. Stoick steadfastly ignored even looking at that chair. If he did, he'd imagine Hiccup were still sitting there and think of all the ways he could've handled the situation alternatively, and it was not good for a Chief to doubt his decisions.

He felt Gobber's eyes on him the whole time, even as he plunged his head into his hands and held it there, silently begging the gods to present him with another option, to offer him an idea that would keep his son safe and not make Hiccup hate him. The blacksmith's gaze never left him, burning into his shoulder.

"Am I doing the right thing, Gobber?" he finally asked, lifting his head from his hands and turning his head to look at the smith standing by the front door.

Gobber tried to offer him a sympathetic smile as he limped to the door, meaning to leave. "I don' know yet, Stoick," he finally said. He reached out for the handle, pausing as he wrapped his fingers around it. Gobber looked over his shoulder, his braided mustache framing his lips. "But he can't be angry with you forever, right?"

Stoick's answer was quiet, strained by his own shame. "Hiccup may well try."

* * *

"He's boar-headed and stubborn!"

Astrid cleaved through a slice of mutton with her knife, grabbing the resulting bit of meat with two fingers and popping it into her mouth. She chewed on it angrily, lips curled back in a snarl and eyebrows curved into a dangerous scowl.

Gobber answered with a brief chuckle, earning a sneering glare from the young woman. "What's so funny?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Oh, nothin'. It's just, well, do ye know how many conversations I've had with Hiccup that began with that exact line?" Gobber answered, flashing a lighthearted smile.

Astrid softened a little bit, looking down at her hands. "I'm guessing quite a few?"

"Try quite a _lot,_" Gobber concurred. Astrid turned her head to look at her plate, poking the mutton and the potato slices on the side. Like most things that grew on Berk, both foods were rather tasteless. She'd been bored to death all day without Hiccup, forced to not only do her chores in utter silence but also fly both of their dragons and get in their exercise. To top her miserable day off, Stoick hadn't let her in to see Hiccup yet, and it was grating on her even more than she would've initially imagined.

Gobber generally had a knack for advice, so she'd gathered her dinner and made her way to the smithy to eat and talk with the blacksmith. The sun was setting by now and business at the stall was winding down. The grindstone churned and Gobber dropped a sword onto the wheel, starting to touch up the blade with careful precision.

"In any case," the blacksmith said, the sounds of his work partially masking his voice, "how're you holding up?"

"You mean besides sleeping in an empty bed in an empty house? I'm doing great," Astrid growled. Gobber frowned at her, and Astrid immediately felt bad. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't snap at you, Gobber."

Gobber shrugged it off, "Ah, don't apologize, lass. I understand. You're upset, and rightfully so." He pulled the sword off of the grindstone after a few more seconds, examining the blade and determining that it was satisfactory. He set the sword on a rack along the wall and then turned to the wheel hanging from the ceiling where he stored his many prosthetic attachments, grabbing a back-scratcher and replacing the hammer attachment with it. He reached his arm up and rotated his shoulder so that he could reach the majority of his back and began furiously scratching. "Oh, that hits tha spot…"

"Can you tell me anything about this Drago Bludvist guy? It looked like you knew the name yesterday, too."

Gobber froze, stopping his ministrations to his itchy back and wearing a sheepish look. Slowly, he rotated his shoulder back around and let his arm fall to his side. "Oh. You, ah… you saw that, did ye?" Astrid appraised him with one of her signature glares, silently pressing the smith harder and harder with only her eyes. Gobber sighed and averted his eyes as if to shield himself from her, "Look, lassie… it's not my place to say." Gobber tugged the doors to the forge windows closed and locked them shut, busying himself with closing up shop. When he returned to the wheel of prosthetic attachments, he replaced the back scratcher with his usual hook. "Drago… Drago is someone from Stoick's past. He's a source of some stressful memories."

Gobber continued, trying to defend his friend and Chief while considering Astrid's displeasure. "I know it's difficult to understand his reasons for holding Hiccup in his house. Whether it's fair or not, Stoick is doing what he's doing because he believes that it's the right thing to do, because he's _afraid _of what will happen if he doesn't.I shouldn't hafta tell you that there aren't many things in this world that strike fear into Stoick's heart."

Astrid didn't answer, instead looking down into the mug of water she'd brought with her food. It was still warm, heated in the well by Stormfly's fire before she scooped it up on the way over. She took a long, slow sip, relishing the warmth that shivered through her body as she drank.

"So, I need to talk to Stoick if I want answers."

"Ye can try, but I doubt he'll budge," Gobber remarked. "'Scuse me, Grump!" he half-shouted, stepping over the sleeping Hotburple's head as he carried a stack of metal to a storage basket. Astrid slid off of the counter and wandered through the forge, eyes setting on the curtain cordoning off Hiccup's room.

She slipped inside without so much as a word of protest from Gobber, having entered the room a thousand times before. It was one of her favorite places on Berk, a testament to her husband's genius in action. Even though he didn't really _need _to anymore, Hiccup still preferred to store his designs in the room. Astrid liked to come here once in a while and see what he was up to, and more often than not she'd bring him a meal as well, usually after lunchtime when she had some freedom. She knew all too well that Hiccup had a tendency to get on a roll with his work and completely forget to even eat.

The schematics lining the wall were updated, entirely different from what they'd been a couple of years ago, or even from the last time she'd been in the room. There were designs for improvements to the dragon hangar, blueprints for the many iterations of his flight suit, the emergency lock for Toothless' fin. Notes littered the pages strewn across the desk and on the wall, scribbled out in Hiccup's quick scrawl. Astrid read a few of them in passing.

_Flight test #16: Wings working well, spring coil could use recalibrating. _That one was probably on her. Astrid bit her lip to hide her smile, imagining Hiccup writing and blaming her under his breath, always complaining about how her punching the button that controlled his ridiculous dorsal fin would wear out the mechanism. He probably wanted her to find that particular note, so he could have written evidence of her culpability when his precious spring coil finally gave out. Below that note, there were more scribbled runes and she read them absently, picturing Hiccup sitting at the desk and writing them down.

_Smaller gas capsules just as effective so more can be stored inside Inferno._

_Dragon scales = Fireproof. Stable enough to use for armor?_

Astrid half-snorted. It was always something with Hiccup. Always tinkering, always advancing, trying to figure out something new. She loved that about him. He was never satisfied, never convinced that he had reached his pinnacle. There was always something that could be done better.

If only he could see that that same quality would make him such a great Chief.

Astrid swallowed and a sudden cramp flared up in her gut, sharp and uncomfortable. Astrid frowned and looked down at her stomach, placing one of her hands against the fabric of her shirt and grimacing as the spike of pain persisted.

"That's weird…" she mumbled to herself, and then a sharp, acidic taste suddenly rose up in her throat. She knew what the sensation was the second she felt it, "Oh, okay—" Astrid managed, and she clapped a hand over her mouth as she searched for a bucket. She knew that Hiccup kept one here somewhere. She flicked her eyes back and forth to glance along the floor, finding nothing. Taking a wild guess, she stooped down and ducked her head to look under the desk.

_Jackpot. _A lone wooden bucket was nestled under the desk, halfway to the wall. Astrid's arm shot forward and she jerked the bucket to her, leaning over the bowl as she yanked it out from under the desk.

Astrid pulled her hand away from her mouth, and not a moment too soon. The second she was safely hovering over the bucket, a rush of vomit surged out of her mouth and into the bucket, splattering against its wooden floor. The mushy bile was a dark, yellow color, and the stench wafted into Astrid's nostrils against her will. She recoiled from the bucket and an uncomfortable shiver traveled up her spine.

"_Astrid? Everythin' all right in there?"_

Astrid flinched and looked at the closed curtain serving as a door. "All good, Gobber," she lied. "I sort of… lost my dinner into a bucket."

"_Oh, dear, d'you need me to—" _Gobber's fingers appeared on Astrid's end of the curtain, like he'd already answered his impending question and meant to come in.

"No, no, I'm fine," Astrid protested. The blacksmith's visible hand froze in place. "I'm coming out." She grabbed the bucket in her hand and walked to the curtain, sliding it open and walking back into the main part of the smithy. Gobber had backed up from the entryway and wore a frown as he examined her.

"You sure you're alright, lass?" Gobber asked, perplexed.

"Fine. I might be getting sick… I thought I felt some sniffles coming on earlier. I'll go see Gothi if it gets any worse," Astrid said. She looked down at the bucket, "Sorry about this. I'll clean it at my house and bring it back later."

Gobber nodded, trusting. "Don't beat yourself up, lass. This changin' weather tends to get the best of us. Go home and get some rest, we cann'ea have you catching a cough."

Astrid smiled. "Thanks for talking to me, Gobber… and for tolerating me over dinner."

Gobber chuckled, strengthening Astrid's smile. "The pleasure was all mine, Astrid. I'll see if I can talk a little bit of sense into Stoick about letting you see Hiccup."

Astrid nodded and, feeling sheepish, briskly walked out of the smithy to head home, her newly claimed barf bucket dangling from one of her hands. A cold wind blustered through the village, a crescent moon hanging above in the night sky. No one disturbed her on her walk to the house, situated along the edge of the village so that the back of the building faced the sea.

When she walked in, Toothless happily greeted her, and she cleaned out the bucket like she'd promised. She made a point to brew a medicinal tea from the herbs she had stocked up in one of the chests, drinking it all just to be safe. Gobber was right, Berk didn't need her getting sick. Once she downed all of the tea, she changed into her nightgown to go to bed. For once, she let Toothless into the room, not wanting to be completely alone tonight. The Night Fury entered with a sad warble and curled up at the foot of the bed, keeping a watchful guard before slipping into the clutches of sleep, lightly snoring as he breathed in and out.

Astrid climbed under the sheets, tugged the blankets close, and, feeling the unwelcoming cold on the other side of the furs, prayed that she'd be able to actually get some rest of her own.

* * *

**Thoughts?**


	4. Separated

**Here's an Astrid-centric chapter before we really dig into things. This chapter contains mild references to sexual acts between consenting adults.**

* * *

_**4\. Separated**_

Astrid woke with a start, a brief shiver trailing down her back. The other side of the bed was painfully cold, the price of her husband's absence. Sunlight trickled into their room through the blinds, and Astrid reluctantly rolled out of bed. Her joints crackled as she set her feet on the wooden floor, willing herself to surge to a standing position. She stretched, arching her back and lifting her arms into the air.

Astrid allowed herself a yawn and heard the rustling of something near the end of the bed. She glanced around the corner of the furs, finding a pair of pale green eyes looking up at her from black, scaly sockets, skeletal ridges lining the dragon's head. Toothless warbled at her, half-awake.

"_Roo?"_

Astrid sighed, eyes blue and bleary. "Morning, Toothless. Are you hungry?" Toothless' ears ticked upward, and he let out an interested coo, seemingly saying that yes, he was starving just like always, and why didn't they feed him more?

Astrid chuckled and glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting to find Hiccup there laughing with her. Her mood instantly declined even further as she was reminded of the obvious, and her expression hardened. "Alright, Toothless. Let's get some breakfast," she decided, forcing herself to walk around the perimeter of the empty bed and out into the common room. Toothless followed close behind her, his great paws scrabbling against the wooden floors.

She wandered into the kitchen, fastening her hands around one of the sacks full of fish that they kept along the wall. She'd had to drag the newest batch of them in yesterday by herself, deprived of Hiccup's always-helpful hands. Not that it was difficult, just… she preferred having him there. After tugging the sack halfway across the kitchen in Toothless' direction, she kicked the bag over and watched the Night Fury dart forward to dive into the king's ransom of fish. Astrid turned her back and fished a single plate from one of the cabinets up top before digging into their food stores and grabbing a single egg and a slice of cod.

She fired up a flame to cook the food with, seasoning the cod to her mother's instructions. She'd been getting weekly lessons from her mother, hoping to expand her cooking repertoire beyond mediocre bowls of stew. Hiccup was the better cook in the marriage, it was true. And while she generally hated housewife stuff, Astrid admittedly harbored an appreciation of both cooking and sewing, starting to see them as necessary skills as she grew older and finding it in her to work toward mastering them. She was talented at one of those things… but the other? Not so much. And she didn't appreciate not being up to code in something as vitally important as making food edible.

Hopefully that would gradually change, and she would improve. She thought she was refining her skills at least a little bit, and her own cooking tasted fine to her, but others around her didn't quite yet seem to agree all the time. She was better at some dishes than others. She wanted to one day surprise Hiccup with a delicious meal all cooked by her, maybe on a special occasion like their wedding anniversary. That was a decent goal to shoot for, with another six months to go before that date. He was always doing sweet and thoughtful things for her; it was only right that she at least _tried _to return the favor.

A few minutes of roasting later, she transferred the cooked breakfast onto a plate and ate, quickly filling her stomach and retreating to the bedroom to change as Toothless finished his meal. Once she was ready, Astrid grabbed another sack full of fish and led Toothless out of the house.

The sun shined down on Astrid's hair as she closed the front door, tugging it once to ensure it was shut tight. Toothless took a deep, noisy breath and Astrid tossed the bag of fish over her shoulders, running her arms through the straps so she could wear it like a rucksack. People and dragons wandered throughout the village, eager to greet the day.

"_Rawk!" _Astrid looked up to the roof of the house, spotting Stormfly perched on it. The Nadder twitched excitedly, her lengthy tongue flicking out to graze her serrated teeth as she eyed the sack of fish.

"Well, you're up early, girl! Want some breakfast?" Astrid called. Stormfly squawked and unfurled her wings, gently flapping into the air and descending from the roof. Astrid beamed and dropped the sack of fish again, kicking it over so that Stormfly could have easy access.

Stormfly landed and bolted forward, taking in a big sniff of the fish before digging in. Toothless nervously licked his lips and eyed Stormfly's breakfast, as if ready to pounce and steal a share for himself.

Astrid's brow furrowed. "Don't even think about it, Toothless," she scolded, and the Night Fury's eyes panned over to her. Toothless warbled with disappointment and hung his head, if only to try and garner some sympathy. When Astrid showed no sign of caving, the dragon very clearly rolled his eyes and slumped down in the grass, smacking his lips in a way that was surely intended to mock her.

"You keep up with the backtalk and I won't take you flying," Astrid warned. That seemed to shut Toothless up, and he looked up at her with newly pleading eyes. "That's what I thought," Astrid added, and Toothless said nothing more. Stormfly cleaned out the sack of fish a few minutes later and trilled appreciatively, bringing a smile to Astrid's face.

"Was it good?" Astrid cooed, and Stormfly awkwardly stamped her feet and shrilled. Astrid stepped forward and grabbed the empty sack off of the ground, quickly striding over to the door and dropping it inside. She'd put it in its proper place later. When she turned back around from the door, Toothless and Stormfly were playing, engaged in an apparent dragons slowly circled each other, daring the other to move first and begin the chase, taunting one another with various squawks and warbles.

Astrid let the two dragons have a few minutes of fun before snapping her fingers and getting their attention. "Well, now that we've all had our food, why don't we go get a flight in before chores?" Stormfly trilled in agreement and Toothless bounded over, beckoning Astrid to climb into the saddle on his back.

"Stormfly, I'll need to fly Toothless for Hiccup again. Will you be alright flying on your own?" Stormfly squawked and spread her wings, understanding. "Of course you will, you big, brave girl," Astrid praised, and she hopped into the saddle and slid her foot into the alternate pedal for the rigging, the one Hiccup had built for anyone besides him to fly Toothless. "Alright, Toothless, whenever you're ready!"

Toothless warbled and extended his wings, leaning down into a launching position before rocketing off of the ground. Astrid's world blurred from the sudden takeoff and she vaguely heard Stormfly's squawk behind them. Everything spun in Astrid's vision and Toothless pumped his wings, thrusting up and up and up and purring at the sensation of the wind.

Toothless finally decided they were high enough and leveled off. Astrid stopped reeling, her sight becoming clearer. Her stomach churned with nausea barely held at bay. "I'll never understand how Hiccup likes that so much," she managed, and Toothless answered with a rolling rumble that sounded something like laughter.

Stormfly's squawk reverberated through the air behind them, and Astrid looked over her shoulder to see the Nadder burst through a seam of clouds and flap her wings to catch up. Toothless slowed so that Stormfly could glide in beside them. Stormfly squawked once she caught them, tilting back and forth to dance on the winds.

Astrid released her hold on the handlebars and stuck her arms out from her sides, feeling the wind rush around them. It was a feeling that she never got tired of, the sensation of just being so totally and completely _free._ Nothing could touch her up here. The dragons had given her this feeling, the chance to be free like this in the first place. Not for the first time, she wondered how they'd been able to kill them for 300 years.

Things were better now, without a doubt.

Astrid grabbed the handlebars on Toothless' saddle again, now settled in and feeling much more up to some wild maneuvers. "Alright, you two. Let's have some fun, shall we?"

Both dragons screeched in agreement and Astrid tilted to the left, prompting Toothless to spin in the same direction and dive. Stormfly followed and they broke through a blanket of clouds. The surface of the sea flickered into view and the wind howled in Astrid's ears. Toothless began spinning, slower than he probably would've with Hiccup on his back, and let out a pleased roar. The Night Fury was so in his element that it made Astrid smile.

Before they could come close to hitting the sea, Toothless spread his wings and the wind sent them hurtling back up. Stormfly followed, riding on the wind to ascend back to their side. She squawked as one of her eyes fell on Astrid.

"Good flying weather today, huh?" Astrid said, and both dragons voiced their agreement. She smiled at their pleasure and they continued flying for several minutes, never straying too far from Berk. The absence of her husband's nasally voice and trademark snark were loud and clear. They were supposed to be sharing these moments together, getting in a morning flight with their beloved dragons before the day's duties separated them.

Eventually, Astrid decided it was time for a dead sprint. She leaned her entire body across Toothless' saddle, tightening her grip on the saddle so that her knuckles turned white. Toothless flapped his wings and they jerked forward, keeping close to the surface of the sea. Stormfly squawked and followed, doing her best to keep up, but the Nadder was clearly no match for the Night Fury. The wind screamed and slashed through the water behind them, leaving a trail of foam in their wake.

Astrid squinted against the wind, her blonde locks billowing behind her like smoke from a terrible fire. Her cheeks were surely red from the stinging breeze. A cluster of sea stacks appeared in the distance, quickly growing closer as Toothless zoomed ahead at unfathomable speed.

A cold shiver unexpectedly trailed down Astrid's spine. She grew lightheaded for a moment and a cramp formed in her stomach, accompanied by a sudden wave of nausea. Astrid groaned and Toothless cooed in concern, picking up on her discomfort and slowing a bit.

Out of caution, Astrid pointed to the incoming sea stacks. "Think we can land for a minute, Toothless? I'm not feeling so good." Toothless warbled understandingly and spread his wings to slow down even further, using the wind currents to ascend toward the nearest sea stack. The nausea swimming in Astrid's system persisted, and Toothless made a hasty landing at the top of a sea stack.

Astrid swung her feet out of the stirrups at Toothless' side, hoping that the queasiness would subside as she stepped onto solid ground. Unfortunately, it didn't—in fact, it grew worse. Astrid's stomach turned over and a bitter taste suddenly rose up to her throat. Panicked, Astrid slapped a hand over her mouth, fairly confident of what was about to happen.

Quickly, Astrid paced over to the edge of the sea stack, ignoring Toothless' concerned warbles. Once she was close to the crag, Astrid dropped to her knees and bent over, feeling a sick sort of relief as she stopped fighting. Vomit instantly rushed up and out of her mouth, Astrid leaning over so that she could spill the contents of her stomach off of the edge and into the sea hundreds of feet below. The semi-solid sludge plummeted out of sight and Astrid heaved, expecting another bout of vomiting and feeling relief when none came.

Hoping that the episode was over, Astrid leaned back on her knees again, lifting one arm to her mouth and wiping. A small smattering of the puke stuck to the furred bracer guarding her forearm, making Astrid grimace again. She'd just washed the thing, and now needed to do so again.

Stormfly's squawk resounded behind her, but Astrid didn't bother to look back, too shaken up. She heard the Nadder land in a spray of dirt, and the ground vibrated as the large dragon padded worriedly over to her. Stormfly's teeth appeared in her peripheral vision, the Nadder doing her best to rest her head on Astrid's shoulder and check on her. Astrid smiled, touched.

"I'm alright, girl. Guess it just didn't go down very well," Astrid said, and she got to her feet once again. "I think we've flown far enough out. Let's head back to—"

Stormfly cut Astrid off with a squawk, one golden eye fixed on Astrid's midsection. The Nadder drew close to her, loud squawks weakening into curious little purrs. Even Toothless perked up, taking a few steps closer out of sheer interest.

"What?" Astrid said, as if either of the dragons would give her a straight answer.

"_Rawk…" _Stormfly hummed, and then with the gentlest caution, brushed her head against Astrid's flat stomach. The Nadder purred and cast her warm golden eyes up at Astrid, taking large, quick sniffs of air.

Astrid looked down at herself, and then back at the dragon. She remembered vomiting last night while eating at the forge and thinking nothing of it. It had been no cause for concern at the time, she'd helped herself to some water and taken the necessary steps to ensure that she didn't wake up in the morning sick as a dog.

"You don't think…?" Astrid asked her dragon, still not getting any kind of straightforward answer.

What if what happened last night wasn't physical sickness? Once was just a regular random occurrence, but twice was a pattern, right? She certainly wasn't feeling ill—no fever, cold sweats… could this be _morning sickness? _Was throwing up twice after two meals normal? Obviously, dinner yesterday hadn't been in the _morning, _but she knew it was common to have trouble keeping food down during the early stages of pregnancy. She'd felt some unusual discomfort here and there over the last few days, too, but it hadn't worried her. She'd also been unusually tired lately, especially in the evenings.

Then something else hit her. She counted up her days on her fingers, grimacing as she realized. She hadn't bled in well over a month. Astrid nearly face palmed, thinking back to certain nights and on which of them _certain activities _had occurred. By her count now, she should've started bleeding about a week ago. What could possibly have been so distracting for so long that she didn't even _notice?_

Hiccup. _Hiccup _had been so distracting, as he often was.

Stormfly squawked, as if to confirm her suspicions. Astrid winced, looking down at her belly again. It added up at least a little bit. Her most fertile days would've been just shy of three weeks ago. And she knew for a fact that the burn, the _need, _had been worse on those days. Her body was so sensitive on those days; she tingled all over, and every little thing her husband had done drove her crazy then, even the most benign, sexless actions like folding clothes or pouring a cup of ale. They were married, she couldn't be blamed for wanting him. For _needing _him to relieve all of that aching.

Astrid let out the most ridiculous-sounding whimper, a keening she meant to use to scold herself for being so reckless. It was unlike her. An anxious tremor shook her entire body.

"Oh, gods."

* * *

The breeze was nice on Gothi's perch as Astrid wallowed in her own thoughts for the hundredth time today. She and the dragons had taken great care flying back to Berk, but really all that extra time had done was exacerbate Astrid's worries. Was she seriously _pregnant?_

She had taken her chores slowly, careful not to overexert herself in any way, and as soon as she found some time, she'd snuck off to the elder's hut. She'd clambered up the ladder to the perch, but several minutes later she still hadn't found the courage to knock. Instead, she sat on the wooden porch in silence for several minutes out of some bizarre fear, dangling her feet off the edge as she watched the village from so high up. It felt utterly ridiculous, being afraid of the possibility that she was with child.

Because she and Hiccup had had the talk several times. Hel, most of the _village_ had had the talk with them, the one about siring an heir. The discussion, when had with other people, almost always involved intrusions into their personal life. Yes, they were sleeping together. What young, happy married couple wasn't? No, they _were not _doing anything wrong in the process. They were just… being careful. Bringing a child into the world was an enormous commitment, and while Astrid didn't doubt for an instant that she would love a baby that was part her and part Hiccup like nothing else before, and that Hiccup would do the same, she just wasn't ready. _They _weren't ready.

She'd been drinking that tea recipe religiously, _specifically _to prevent a surprise of this magnitude. Now, it wasn't one hundred percent effective—almost nothing was that effective at anything—but it was reassuring. Reassuring enough that she was willing to take risks, like locking her legs around Hiccup when he _really _should be pulling away.

Okay, so maybe she enjoyed that a little bit. Stone her.

Before she freaked out about anything, though, she needed a second opinion. Steeling herself, Astrid stood on her feet again and meandered over to the elder's door. Before she could think twice and convince herself otherwise, she cracked her knuckles against the door, going absolutely still and listening. She heard the sound of shuffling feet on the other side of the door before it swung open, revealing Gothi in all of her diminutive glory. The elder woman leaned against her staff, looking Astrid up and down.

"Uh… hi, Gothi," Astrid managed, ears growing hot with embarrassment. "Can I come in?"

Gothi nodded and stepped aside, allowing Astrid to enter the small hut. The shelves were lined with countless bottles of medicine, each marked by a label filled with scrawled runes. Gothi tapped her staff on a chair, beckoning Astrid to sit in it. Astrid did so, nervously thrumming her fingers together, and Gothi stood over the pit of sand that she used to write in, dragging her staff through the grains to scrawl out runes. The old woman was mute, so conversations were always hampered by a certain difficulty, but years of practice and service had made Gothi very efficient at communicating.

_What seems to be the problem? _she scribbled out in the sand.

Astrid gulped, averting her eyes from the elder as if the truth were something shameful. "Well, I… I think that I might be pregnant, Gothi."

The elder blinked and nodded, brushing away the sentence she'd scrawled in the sand with her staff and replacing the erased words with more of them. _What makes you think this?_

"I've been nauseous and tired the last couple of days. And I'm fairly confident that I've missed my moon's blood."

Gothi stroked her chin with a tiny finger, and she waddled up to Astrid and began examining her. It was a quick inspection, and in moments Gothi returned to the sand pit to write some more. _Your symptoms suggest pregnancy, but we will test to be sure._

Gothi shuffled toward her shelves, moving the contents around until she apparently found what she needed. Astrid tried to watch the old woman out of the corner of her eye, but the strain on her neck persuaded her to just keep looking forward. Gothi wandered back into view again a few minutes later, carrying a small pouch in her frail hand. The elder handed the sack to Astrid and she pulled on the rope around the top to open it, peering inside to find a few fistfuls of barley. She looked up to ask Gothi a question, but the old woman was already back at her sand pit, writing out an answer to her unspoken question.

_Make water into the bag. If the seeds have sprouted in a few days, we will know for certain._

Astrid cast a look down at the barley again. She'd heard of this test before, and she had always doubted the legitimacy of it, but the village apparently had great faith in it. Her mother had told her how she'd taken the test and her urine caused the barley seeds to sprout within a few days. Over the course of the next several months, her belly grew and grew, and eventually, along came Astrid.

Gothi nodded at Astrid and turned her back, instructing Astrid to begin with a twist of her hand. Astrid allowed herself a small smile; she highly doubted that Gothi would be fazed by the sight of a woman urinating, but she still appreciated the respect for privacy. Deciding that she might as well take the test, Astrid opened the sack and did her business, tugging the small cord back around the pouch to keep it shut when she was finished.

"Okay, Gothi, I'm done." Gothi turned back around and smiled, approaching Astrid and taking the pouch from her. The old woman wrote some more in the sand.

_I will visit you a few days from now. Continue to monitor your symptoms and be careful with what you eat. Do not drink any mead until we know the results._

Astrid nodded, understanding. She stood up from the seat, "Thank you for seeing me, Gothi."

Gothi held up a hand, wordlessly asking Astrid to stay for a few more moments. She brushed away her writing, once again replacing it with more runes. _How is Hiccup doing?_

"I don't know. I haven't been able to see him yet."

Gothi nodded. _I am sorry for what Stoick is doing. I hope you understand that he has reason to do so._

"That's what Gobber said," Astrid pointed out, "Why is he doing this? Why is Stoick locking him up in his house?"

Gothi shook her head somberly. _It is not my place to say, _she wrote.

"Gobber said that, too," Astrid scowled. "Seems to be a common thread."

_If you wish to understand, it is Stoick's responsibility to tell you._

"Well, unfortunately, I don't have much to say to Stoick right now," Astrid answered, bitter. "I'm going back home," she added, tired of this cryptic and one-sided conversation with Gothi.

Gothi nodded, and before Astrid could rise to her feet and stalk away, the elder scribbled two more sentences in the sand.

_Take care of yourself, Astrid. Don't do anything rash._

* * *

Stoick opened the front door, towering over Astrid. The Chief's breath hitched in surprise; his meaty hand clasped around the handle of a mug. The sun was setting at Astrid's back, marking Hiccup's third night stuck in his former house.

"Astrid."

"Stoick," Astrid greeted him with a stern voice.

"Come in, come in," Stoick stepped aside and ushered Astrid in. She got a full view of the empty house, lit only by the glow of the fire. Hiccup was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is my husband?" Astrid asked.

"Hiccup's upstairs, in his room. He isn't very interested in spending time with me lately."

"I wonder why," Astrid scoffed. Stoick ran a hand through his stark red hair and sighed.

"What can I help you with?" Stoick asked, tense.

"I'm just here to see Hiccup."

Stoick frowned, as if he was surprised that there was nothing else. "Of course. Follow me." He set down his half-full mug and again made his way to the stairs, Astrid hot on his heels. The dark staircase loomed in front of them and the steps creaked as Stoick walked up, subjecting the wood to his full weight. The door to Hiccup's room was unsurprisingly closed, and Stoick softly rapped his knuckles on the frame.

"Son?"

Without waiting for an answer, Stoick pushed the door open and poked his head in. Through the crack, Astrid saw one guard standing at the far wall, close to the open window.

"_What?" _she heard Hiccup say from inside the room, obviously very irritated.

"You have a visitor," Stoick said, and he forced the door open so that he could walk in. Hiccup peered around his father's large frame and watched as Astrid walked into view. He sucked in a sudden breath and launched up from the furs on his bed, his sour mood washing away instantly.

"Astrid," he murmured, and he surged forward to hug her. Astrid likewise rushed to grab him, and they nearly crashed into one another, arms fumbling as they competed to hold the other the tightest. Hiccup tilted his head down, pressing his nose and forehead to hers lovingly, like she'd been missing for days and they'd only just found one another again.

"Let's allow them some privacy. Lichen, stay with them?" Stoick suggested. The Chief and two of the guards exited the room, leaving the last one—Lichen—to stand watch by the window.

"Are you alright?" Hiccup asked.

Astrid almost laughed. Hiccup was acting like _she _was the one being held prisoner. It tugged at the strings of her heart, loving the fact that even when he was at a low point, he still had it in him to be more concerned about others.

"I'm fine, Hiccup. Are _you _alright?"

"The food's not so bad, I guess," Hiccup shrugged, and he cracked a small smile. "But this is the best part of my day."

Astrid smiled and reached up to kiss him, short but sweet. "I'm sorry that I didn't come see you sooner," she said upon pulling away, "I've been helping Gobber, and your dad didn't really feel like letting me in to visit yet."

Hiccup scoffed, suddenly irritated. "Doesn't surprise me. He doesn't get it—I know that I can do this. If he stopped being debilitatingly terrified of this Drago guy, then maybe he'd actually be able to see that."

Astrid had to prevent herself from frowning. "Do you think that he might have reason to be doing this?"

"He claims to…" Hiccup said, averting his eyes. "But he doesn't understand. Even after all this time, he never has. I have to try, Astrid. If I could get out of here and just talk to Drago, he'd see. I can get everyone to lay down their weapons and stop this war before it ever gets started."

Astrid pondered his words and looked past him to the open window. Lichen was standing stock still by the windowsill, doing little more than ensuring that neither of them tried to escape. Of course, Astrid was thinking about that very thing: escape.

It wouldn't be that hard, really. She was a better fighter than any of Hiccup's guards, there was no doubt about that. His old room wasn't like the prison cells they'd been thrown in a couple of years ago. She could work his way out of there using the window, maybe drag one or two of the guards through the opening to get rid of them. She would probably need backup, though. Maybe someone that could serve as a distraction.

Astrid shifted her gaze back to her husband, her thoughts sinking into the image of his impossibly deep green eyes. Oh, she wanted to tell him _so bad. _There was a good chance they were going to be _parents, _for Odin's sake. The more she'd thought about it since her visit to Gothi's, the more her panic ebbed away and turned into optimism. She kept imagining Hiccup running around the house after a giggling toddler, or rocking a baby to sleep at night. The images were almost painfully endearing.

But right now, with so much suddenly going on and so much danger on the horizon, she couldn't tell him about the possible baby. Every last decision he'd make would be about her and the little human she might be carrying, and she really didn't want that. Just because she was (possibly) pregnant didn't mean that she was weak. Plus, she didn't want to get his hopes up. What if she was just dealing with an infection of some sort, and Gothi's barley test came back negative?

Okay, she felt that probably wasn't going to be the case, given her symptoms, but she didn't know for sure. That was the point of the test, to be certain.

"What's wrong?" Hiccup asked, rightly guessing that something was amiss with her.

"Nothing," Astrid lied.

Hiccup saw through her. "Come on, I can practically see the gears in your head right now. You've got that look in your eyes."

"I'm just…" Astrid started. She swallowed, frantically searching for a better lie. Her eyes flicked down and she saw the little button fixed to his flight suit, the one that controlled the dorsal fin. She wasn't extremely fond of the suit itself, but she had been able to amuse herself when she learned that pushing the button activated the fin. It was worth _hours_ of entertainment.

So, like she'd done several times in the past just to annoy him, she darted her arm pressed the switch. The suit's dorsal fin snapped to attention with a _thwack_, and Hiccup groaned with displeasure.

"You've got to stop doing that, you're going to wear out the spring coil in this thing," Hiccup complained, reaching down and turning the winch that made the fin slowly retract.

"Sure, babe."

"I'm serious, the calibration is _very _sensitive…" he replied, throwing a quick look over his shoulder to make sure the fin was completely folded back into place.

"You're the one who made it controlled by a button," Astrid defended. She smiled inwardly, confident that she had led him sufficiently astray.

"Because it's easy—okay, I'm done contesting you." Hiccup ran a hand through his hair and promptly gave up. He sat back down on his bed and suddenly yawned. Astrid followed and plopped down on the furs beside him, finding his hand and interlocking their fingers.

Hiccup sighed, "I just want to get out of here. I'd give almost anything to go to our house, sleep in our bed."

Astrid frowned, feeling his blues. "I wish you were there, too. Look, I'll keep talking to your dad about letting you go, and I'll visit you twice every day from here on out. I'll cook meals for you, too."

"I don't really know if you need to do that last part—_ow!_" Hiccup started, earning himself a swat on the back of the head courtesy of Astrid. He grinned at her, staving off a mirthful laugh, "Alright, alright, I yield. I'll eat your inedible cooking." Another swat. "I'm kidding. You have been getting better at cooking, if you didn't notice."

"Are you saying that so that I won't hit you again?"

"No, no, I mean it. I actually liked the yak stew from last week," Hiccup admitted.

"Well, in that case I think I'll make some more just for you," Astrid said, and she kissed him on the cheek. "All of this will be over soon, okay? I promise."

She squeezed Hiccup's hand and he turned his head to look at her. Reluctantly, he nodded.

There was a sudden knock at the door, and a second later it swung open to reveal Stoick. He didn't need to say anything, just his presence made it clear that their time was up. Hiccup rolled his eyes in disgust. He really was being treated like a prisoner, all the way down to having only a few minutes of visitation time with his _wife._

Astrid sighed and looked at him. "I should go feed the dragons. I'll come visit tomorrow morning?" she left the question hanging.

"I can't wait," Hiccup said, flashing a smile to hide his sulking. Astrid nodded and leaned down to leave him with another quick, chaste kiss, and then walked to the door as Hiccup's guards filtered into the room to replace her, squeezing through the space made by Stoick to get to the stairs.

Behind her, Astrid heard Stoick wish his son goodnight, but Hiccup gave no reply. Stoick shut the door after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence and followed Astrid down, making the stairs shake with his heavy footsteps. Astrid reached the bottom of the staircase and immediately made for the door. She desperately wanted to still be up there with her husband, just talking. Hearing his voice had washed away the terribleness of the last two days and being pulled away from him brought all of it back.

Stoick called out to her just as she reached for the doorknob, standing still at the foot of the stairs. "I'm sorry about this, Astrid. I only have our safety in mind."

She looked back, taking in his hurt expression. He didn't like doing this, it was clear.

But Astrid didn't have it in her to be sympathetic. He'd done it anyway, and it very much rubbed her the wrong way.

"You're the chief," Astrid said, and she ripped the door open to step outside and leave without so much as a 'good night'.

* * *

Astrid perked up at the sound of knocking at their front door. Her right hand was fixed around the shaft of a wooden spoon, stirring the contents of a pot over a fire. She'd kept her promise, visiting Hiccup twice a day for the last few days now and bringing meals with her each time. He ate everything she brought him, though she still wasn't _totally _convinced that it was because he was actually enjoying her cooking.

Bless him if he didn't keep being convincing, though, eating every bite with a smile. Like she'd told him once, he could make her believe anything just by being him. That's how in love with him she was. He made the impossible seem utterly possible.

Still, by now, she was beginning to get frustrated. She vividly remembered promising Hiccup that this unpleasantness would be over soon, but each hour she spent without so much as catching a whiff of him had slowly irritated her, her displeasure multiplying by the day. With nearly a week of this madness gone by, she was a loose dragon egg, bound to violently explode with just the right provocation and cause chaos.

The knock came again, and Astrid set the spoon down on the edge of the pot, stepping away from it and walking to the door. She swung it open, letting in the cool spring air… and for a second, saw no one in front of her.

Astrid looked down to find Gothi looking up at her, leaning against her staff. The old woman smiled; a Terrible Terror perched on her shoulder. A small bag hung at the woman's side, holding onto her body by a strap wrapping around her opposite shoulder.

"Hi, Gothi. Is everything alright?"

Gothi nodded, wearing a big smile. She gestured with her hand, asking if she could enter, and Astrid stepped aside, letting the elder waddle indoors. The Terrible Terror launched off of her shoulder and flapped around the house, catching Toothless' attention. The Night Fury's eyes narrowed, remaining fixed on the naughty critter. Gothi's brow furrowed and she scowled at the little dragon, grunting at it like it was a disobedient child in need of reprimanding. It was one of the few sounds she could make.

"Don't worry about him, Gothi. He's fine," Astrid assured her, and the old woman laid off of the Terror. Astrid walked through the house and extended her arm to the Terror, beckoning the tiny dragon to perch on her arm. The little devil gently closed its claws around her bracer and then started to groom itself, comfortable with Astrid's touch.

Gothi set her staff against the wall, bracing herself by placing one hand on the kitchen table. Astrid frowned. "What's in the bag, Gothi?"

The old woman smiled and opened it up for Astrid to see. Astrid caught a glimpse of a small pouch inside, recognizing it as the same one she'd used for the pregnancy test a few days ago. Gothi's smile remained unflinching, seemingly giving away the news already.

"You don't mean…?" Astrid started, and Gothi pulled the pouch out of the bag and opened it. She turned the bag on its head and a few shoots of barley fell out onto the table. All of the urine left inside the bag had been soaked up, but that wasn't the most important part.

Astrid knew what sprouting barley looked like. And the barley on the table was, without a doubt, sprouting. Astrid's arm involuntarily dropped to her side, stunned. The Terrible Terror perched there immediately flapped away, landing on a support beam along the roof and voicing its discontent, though the sound fell on deaf ears. Astric looked at Gothi, then back at the barley, and back at Gothi again.

"So, then…?" Astrid managed, failing to get any additional words out. Gothi grabbed her staff and limped over to Astrid, diminutive yet purposeful. The elder reached Astrid and looked up at her, drawing a feeble hand to the young woman's stomach.

Gothi made a few quick gestures. The message was clear. _You are with child._

Astrid flinched, looked over at Toothless, and then flicked her gaze down to her flat stomach. She lifted one of her hands to her belly, gently holding herself. A smile crept onto her face; absolute joy being held at bay only by her own inhibition.

Her voice quaked when she spoke, brushing the soft skin of her naked midsection. Her volume was barely more than a whisper, and tears welled up in her eyes as she tried not to break.

"Hey, there."

Maybe _it _was going to happen, after all.

* * *

**In ancient to medieval times, apparently a common "pregnancy test" was urinating onto barley seeds. A protein created in the bodies of pregnant women also caused those seeds to sprout. I don't know if Vikings actually used this method still, but it was the most common method I could find in my limited research, and it's too late to make changes so that's what I'm going with. I think it's ultimately irrelevant.**

**Next week the ball should get rolling as moves are made. Thanks for reading as always, and if you'd be so kind, I'd sincerely appreciate a review to let me know how I'm doing so far!**


	5. Scars of the Past

_**5\. Scars of the Past**_

The shouting was starting to get seriously old.

Astrid was sitting in a chair at a long table, scraping a whetstone across the blade of her axe. At her left was an empty chair identical to hers. Stoick was at the next seat over, standing and arguing with the likes of Gobber, Spitelout, Phlegma the Fierce, Astrid's father, and the other members of the Berk Council. The empty seat beside her was supposed to be filled by Hiccup, who was unsurprisingly absent thanks to his current situation. Although, he tended to miss half of the Council meetings anyway, more often than not because he was somewhere far away from Berk adding to his map.

Astrid on the other hand was given no such luxury, and thus was a largely unwilling bystander to whatever this was. The topic of the day? The impending threat of Drago Bludvist. The adults were disagreeing on where to ration out the island's fortifications. Berk had been hard at work for the past five, nearly six days raising their defenses in anticipation of a massive invasion from a foreign army. The majority of the village had never so much as seen a foreigner beyond the traders that regularly visited the island, so it lent credibility to the alleged threat when the words _dragon army _were whispered amongst groups.

Astrid's problem, in particular, was that they had no idea _what _to expect from this threat. Obviously, a dragon army was pretty straightforward—but not only did they not know just how many dragons he had in his army, they didn't know how many soldiers, ships, and weapons they had. They didn't even know where his army was based, Berk's riders strictly forbidden from chasing their only lead. Stoick had held true to his orders, no dragon or Viking had set foot off of Berk except for routine patrols, and those didn't go very far out at all, only scanning Berk's immediate airspace.

"_Astrid?" _the voice echoed in her ears. Her vision was swimming, blurred by the miserable boredom she was sitting through. She heard her name again and snapped to attention, setting down her whetstone and finding that her father was speaking to her. Ingvar Hofferson's mouth was pulled into a tight, flat line, hiding his displeasure at her obvious inattentiveness.

"Hmm?" Astrid managed.

"Would you like to add anything?" her father repeated.

Astrid's brow creased and she brushed her braid back behind her ear, annoyed. "I still think we need to send out scouting teams." She reached again for her whetstone, committed to the small act of petty rebellion. It was probably a bit childish, but she believed that she had a very good point and until that was acknowledged, she was willing to act that way.

Stoick audibly sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Astrid, we have discussed this."

"And we're discussing it again," Astrid cut him off.

"I have told you—" Stoick tried.

"You have told me much, but you have shown me nothing." Astrid bared her teeth. She had been _extra _irritable lately, though she tried to keep her emotions in check. Having Gothi throw the news that she was pregnant into the mix was not helping matters. It was like the mere _knowledge _that she was with child had sent her hormones into overdrive, reaching another level that she'd never quite experienced before. She was sure that the little person growing inside of her was what was making her so touchy. No one else on Berk knew, not even Hiccup or her parents. She'd received the news only yesterday evening before dinner, and in two trips to see Hiccup since then she had only barely managed to hold off on sharing it with him.

As selfish as it was, she didn't want to say anything until everything returned to normal. She couldn't shake the fear that she would be treated differently, even if it wasn't intentional, because she was now with child. Would they try to sideline her with the other pregnant women in the village? Send her away when Drago's attack came for her own safety? There was no way in _Hel _that any of that was happening. She was a fighter, a shieldmaiden. No one would keep her down. Just because she carried life did not mean she was weak.

"You say Drago's a monster, Chief, and I believe you. We can fortify Berk all we like, but the fact remains that we don't know what we're up against. Are we looking at a force the size of another tribe? Are we looking at an army so large that they'll overrun Berk the second they set foot in our village? _We don't know. _And we don't have any timetable for _when _we should expect this attack. Are we just going to man the towers around the clock for the next six months and wait until a fleet of a thousand ships reaches our waters?" Astrid grilled Stoick, gripping the ends of the table with her hands. There was something else left unspoken beneath her muted fury, and Stoick knew exactly what she was implying. Say they did wait six months for the attack-would he continue to hold Hiccup under house arrest for all that time, just to keep him from leaving Berk?

"I agree with the girl, Chief." Astrid looked over and saw Not-So-Silent Sven, his blonde eyebrows furrowed in determination. His long mustache covered his mouth, but she was sure that the man's lips were turned in a hard scowl. The formerly "Silent" Sven had regained his voice a few years ago, not long after the integration of dragons, and Astrid liked him because they saw eye to eye on most issues.

Not-So-Silent Sven added, "She's right, we don't know how large Drago's army is. Let's go find out."

"We will continue to fortify the island until further notice," Stoick rejected the idea, shaking his head dismissively.

"That's idiotic, Stoick," Astrid snapped. The Berk Council collectively raised their eyebrows, doubly surprised by Astrid's insult and the use of the Chief's name. "We should be contacting the other dragon-friendly tribes, consider moving to a bigger island to defend against the attack when it comes. We are all stronger together. And in the meantime, we should be sending out riders to find where Drago is hiding and get a tally on his forces."

"It's too dangerous," Stoick lifted his hands partially up, as if to calm an angry animal, "I can't risk the lives of good men and women on a mission like that. Drago will kill them the instant he sees them, and if he doesn't murder their dragons too, he'll press them into his service."

"Then send me and Hiccup. He has the fastest dragon in the archipelago, he'd never get captured. We know where we found those trappers, if we can find them again, we'll have a lead on where Drago is." Astrid softened, now begging, "Stoick, please."

Stoick stared at her, his green eyes flashing as if he were considering it. He flicked his eyes down for a minute, and then looked back up at her and shook his head. "I won't risk the lives of good Berkians, and I certainly won't risk you or my son. The two of you are the future of Berk." Astrid scoffed and looked away, cracking a maddened, sardonic smile. Stoick continued, "Astrid, lass, you have to understand where I'm coming from."

"Then tell me _why. _Tell me _why _you're doing all of this. Because it sure as shit seems like everyone else on this council knows except for me!" Astrid snarled, "What are you so afraid of when it comes to Drago?"

The rest of the Berk Council locked up at the question, averting their eyes out of some unplaceable emotion. Even Not-So-Silent Sven failed to support her. Stoick flinched, face contorting like he was a wounded dog and she'd kicked him while he was down.

"This meeting is adjourned," Stoick ordered, and without so much as a question, the rest of the council members pushed their chairs back and stood up, filtering out of the Great Hall one by one. Stoick kept his eyes on Astrid the whole time, freezing her in place as the others exited. Defiant, Astrid held his stare, meeting his eyes with significantly more anger pulsing in her blue irises. The firelight from the torches lining the Great Hall shined upon her blonde hair, giving her the image of a goddess of war.

"Astrid…" Stoick whispered, "I am truly sorry, but I cannot tell you. The memory… it is too painful." This wasn't the only thing in his life that he didn't talk about. Another one was his wife—Hiccup's mother. Still, Astrid mustered no sympathy for the Chief. Grief was a valid excuse. This was not.

"Why? What happened?"

"I met Drago Bludvist once before, and if I'd had my way it would've remained the last time. What I saw that night, what he_ did... _he'll do the same to every man and woman on Berk, I know it. I have to protect our people, all of them, and I cannot do that if I send them out there to find Drago for me."

"I try to explain this to Hiccup… a chief protects his own, even if the decisions he must make to accomplish that end do not make sense to others, even if they make him unpopular," Stoick explained, "I know that this frustrates you, and I know that you don't agree. But it is the best decision for everyone. What Hiccup means to do will endanger Berk, even if it's not what he intends."

"We can just scout Drago's camp. I can keep him from trying to approach Drago, but you have to at least give me that chance," Astrid protested. "We'd be back before the sun even comes up tomorrow, and we'd know everything we need to know. They'll never see Toothless, not against the night sky."

"I can't let you, Astrid," Stoick answered with another sorrowful shake of his head. "Please, just drop this."

"At least let Hiccup out of your house, then."

"I can't do that either, lass."

"Why not?" Astrid bared her teeth again, embittered by Stoick's immovableness.

"He'll bolt as soon as he gets the chance."

"I'll keep him from doing that," Astrid insisted, "I promise."

Stoick frowned, sad. "I believe that you would try. I do. But it won't happen. When Hiccup sets his mind to something… well, it generally gets done. I can't take the risks that you want me to take, Astrid. It's for the good of Berk."

Astrid scoffed and stood up from her seat, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and her first and second fingers while allowing herself the slightest sardonic bit of laughter. She had just about had it with this conversation.

"Where are you going?" Stoick asked, calm yet demanding.

"It's washday. I have chores to do," Astrid snapped, strapping her axe to her back and snatching her whetstone off of the table. She turned her back to the table and started walking, fixing her glare on the ancient doors of the Great Hall.

"Astrid," Stoick called after her, and after silently debating whether or not she should openly defy him some more and keep walking, she slowed.

"Please, whatever you do, just don't do anything reckless. I am acting with your safety in mind."

Astrid stayed still for a few seconds, and then with only the slightest hint that she'd even heard Stoick's words, stomped out of the Great Hall, making sure to let the door slam behind her.

* * *

Astrid dipped the pair of leggings in her hands into the stream. A quick shiver ran through her at the sensation of cold water on her fingers, but she pushed through it and started scrubbing the submerged leggings with soap. Soft chatter populated the river, as the shapes of many more women gossiped and washed their clothes in a similar manner. Washday, surprisingly, was one of Astrid's favorite days. There was something about returning home with a stack of freshly-cleaned clothes that just made her happy.

It also helped that more often than not, Hiccup would come with her to wash his clothes as well. A lot of the women had needed time to get used to the sight, virtually all of them were charged with washing the clothes of their entire families without any help from the men. The first couple of times, the general consensus between the other women seemed to be that Hiccup was just trying to keep her happy in the earliest days of their marriage, but as he kept arriving week after week with her to wash clothes in the stream, the rumors turned to admiration.

So, Astrid's less-than-stellar mood was understandable, considering Hiccup's absence when compounded with the fact that his father was refusing to let him out of his sight. No one dared to approach her today, not even her wonderful mother, the displeasure on her face loud and clear without making a sound.

Well, no one except for Ruffnut. That girl was afraid of absolutely _nothing._

Ruffnut dropped down onto the riverbank with a basket in her hands. "Morning," she said, and she pulled a pair of bindings from the top of the basket. Astrid replied with a grunt and Ruffnut submerged the bindings in the stream, mirroring Astrid as she went to work with a bar of soap.

When Astrid didn't say anything for five straight minutes, Ruffnut spoke up again. "What's gotten into you today? You're usually much more talkative."

Astrid scowled, finally turning her head to look at Ruffnut, "What the fuck do you think has gotten into me?" Ruffnut actually flinched. "I haven't seen my husband but for ten minutes at a time over the last five days, my father-in-law is throwing his weight around and going on and on with the '_a Chief protects his own' _spiel as a justification for keeping things that way, and apparently, there's a conqueror somewhere out there building an army of dragons to attack us with. Is everything _supposed _to be okay, Ruff?"

Ruffnut put up her hands in defense, lifting her bindings from the stream in doing so. "Hey, take it easy. I was just asking."

Astrid blew hot air through her nose and sighed, letting her eyelids drift closed to calm herself down. "You're right. I'm sorry, Ruff. I'm just… _really_ stressed out lately."

"Yeah, I can see that," Ruffnut drawled, expression deadpan. Astrid threw her a glare. "Seriously though, there's a lot going on. How do you think this Drago guy supposedly controls dragons?"

"Hel if I know. I'm hoping that it's all bullshit," Astrid said, "One way or another, he's coming for Berk eventually. Our secret is officially out."

"We've been lucky, the target we've had on our back is bigger than Thor's biceps," Ruff said. She suddenly cracked a lecherous grin. "Hey, speaking of man parts—"

"Oh, gods."

"How's it going in the bedroom?"

"You literally asked me this last washday," Astrid deadpanned. She laid her leggings out to dry beside her and folded her hands in her lap, trying to will Ruffnut to stop talking with only her mind. As usual, it didn't work.

"And I'm asking again! A lot can happen in a week," Ruffnut posited, "I know Hiccup's missing in action, but you can't seriously still be drinking the tea."

Astrid sighed, putting on her best poker face and lying through her teeth. "No, Ruff, there's no news. When I do get knocked up, you'll know."

"Lame."

"Can we talk about something besides my sex life, please?"

"How about Snotlout and Fishlegs?"

"If it doesn't involve me and sleeping with my husband, I think it fits the category."

"Good, 'cause you're gonna love this. Fishlegs gave me a rock yesterday. And not like, a ring, but like-a _rock. _He said it was Meatlug's favorite kind," Ruffnut recalled, dumbfounded even as she talked about it. She started to laugh, a hysterical cackle that she desperately tried to muffle and keep between her and her friend. "Who even does that?" she blurted.

"When are you just going to pick one of them?" Astrid asked.

Ruffnut shrugged, "Meh, when their antics stop being amusing, that's when."

Astrid supposed that that was as good as she was going to get from Ruff in terms of commitment. "Then in the meantime, do you think you can get them to keep their courting rituals out of the dragon races? It's more enjoyable when I'm actually competing against three people instead of a team of three."

"That wasn't exactly a team effort, but I guess I can try to keep that from happening next time. That doesn't mean they'll listen to me." Ruff suddenly grinned and let out a short giggle, "Actually, they probably will. One time I told them I saw a troll in the woods and said whichever one of them found it first could have my hand. The idiots spent the rest of the day searching for it." Ruffnut let out another cackle and pulled a pair of leggings out of the stream, doing her best to wring out the majority of the water.

Astrid rolled her eyes but allowed a small smile to rise to her face. "Don't tell Gobber you saw one, or he'll join them the next time they go looking. They've been stealing his left socks for years."

Ruffnut guffawed again, and this time Astrid outright laughed as well. For a moment, her troubles melted away.

"Snotlout on the other hand told me he was working with his dad who is working with Stoick on a battle plan. I guess that's better than Fishlegs and his dragon's rocks, but I don't think he's actually helping that much. Besides, it seems like it's going to be hard to plan for an enemy you haven't seen yet."

Astrid sat up straight, getting an idea. Inside her head, she cheered. Finally, someone was agreeing with her! The little bug in her brain grew and took shape, formulating into the rough beginnings of a plan.

"Hey, Ruff, you think you can help me with something tonight?"

Ruffnut dunked a tunic under the stream's surface and frowned at her. "Uh, sure?"

"I want to do a scouting mission. Like you just said, we haven't seen our enemy yet. But I'm going to need backup, and Stoick won't let me."

"So, you want me and Tuff to help you?"

Astrid shook her head, "I need Hiccup."

Ruffnut's eyes widened in realization, a rascally smile creeping onto the girl's features. "You want me to help you with a prison break? _Awesome. _Tuff will be so jealous."

"Well, I think it's more like a house arrest break, but yes," Astrid said in a hushed voice, "Hiccup has at least three guards keeping him in his room, but I can get in through the window. If you help me, I can get Hiccup out of there and we can go find Drago. We'd be back by morning."

"Spare me the details and justification, girl, I'm all for getting into some trouble. When's this going down?"

Astrid took a second to consider her answer, "Tonight, after most of the village goes to sleep. Meet me around the back of Stoick's house and I'll fill you in there."

"I love a good conspiracy. I'm in."

Astrid smiled, "Thanks, Ruff. Somehow, I knew I could count on you."

"Pssh. What are friends for?" Ruffnut shrugged. Something came to her and she gasped, "Oh, I just remembered something else that Snotlout did…" Ruffnut delved into the details and Astrid listened to the upcoming story, her bad mood washed away like the dirt on her clothes.

* * *

Hiccup sat at the desk in his room, absently rolling his charcoal pencil back and forth. He wasn't quite ready to go to sleep yet, as much as he would like to. This was his fifth day and sixth night stuck in his old room, placed under a watchful guard by his father. Though he supposed things could've been worse, being here was immensely boring. The best parts, like he'd told her, had been Astrid's visits. His father had barred her from seeing him at first, probably out of some misguided suspicion, but relented late into the second full day of his detention. She'd been back twice a day ever since, once in the morning and once in the evening.

Absently, he eyed his desk. Just like at its counterpart at the forge, this desk was littered with drawings and designs. His father had declined to clean the place out of nostalgia for the way things used to be, and Hiccup had to say that he didn't actually mind. It eased some of his misery—however little—by making the room feel like home.

Well, almost like home. More like a past home. His _real _home was down the street with Astrid, in their warm bed and under their fine sleeping furs. What he would give just to be looking at her right now. He would gladly eat something terrible that she'd whipped up in the kitchen, like the time she'd tried to make mutton stew a few weeks into their marriage and totally undercooked the meat. Her embarrassment had been absolutely priceless when Hiccup gagged and spat out the mutton, slicing it open for her to show that it was still very much dark red. Thor, she hadn't even seasoned it. He'd laughed off her mistake and spent the rest of the evening helping her cook it better, and while she still had her mishaps with that particular recipe, she never again came that close to killing him.

Hiccup's eyes fell on a piece of paper poking out from the stack of old designs, and out of sheer curiosity he gently slid it out from its hiding spot. The paper was old and yellowed on the edges like so, but the drawing was still in good shape. It was a schematic for the automatic tailfin that he'd built for Toothless a couple of Snoggletogs ago, so that the Night Fury could follow his fellow dragons to the nesting grounds. Toothless had flown off and hadn't returned when the dragons came back with their hatchlings, leading him to fear his best friend had run for the hills at the first sign of unrestricted freedom.

He was jerked from his reminiscing by the click of something against the outside wall. Hiccup looked over his shoulder towards the open window, and then back to the guard standing next to his desk. There were three of them, one by the door, one at his desk, and the other in the far corner of the room.

The guard at his desk didn't move, showing no sign that he'd heard the sound. Hiccup shrugged. Maybe he'd just been hearing things. He returned to gazing at the schematic, remembering how happy he'd been when Toothless had come back during the feast to reveal that he'd gone in search of Hiccup's lost helmet. Astrid had kissed him that night, too. He could feel the imprint of her lips on his still, one of countless more from over the years.

The clicking sound came again, and this time much more clearly. Hiccup looked over his shoulder and then once again back at the guard standing near him. This time, the guard had heard the noise, and he gestured to the guard in the corner of the room to investigate.

Hiccup turned again to watch the guard, a man with long dirty-blonde hair that fell to the base of his neck. The Viking placed his hand on the hilt of his axe, ready to rip it from its sheath and use it if need be. Hiccup's eyes shifted to the window, and a heavier, duller thud struck the roof, almost like footsteps.

Something was out there.

When he reached the window, the guard stuck his head out, peering into the night. No sooner than that, something smacked against the back of the man's exposed head. The guard slumped and plummeted out of the window to the ground, and Hiccup plus both of his remaining guards sprang into action.

Hiccup stood up from his chair, only for the Viking standing guard at his desk to quickly step in front of him and press a meaty hand against his chest to block him. Hiccup cast an incredulous look at the guard and the man looked over his shoulder, gesturing for the Viking at the bedroom door to go to the window. The second guard obeyed, sliding past them and leveling his spear at the window as he approached.

The guard stuck his head out of the window, and just like the one before him, the pommel of a weapon struck him on the back of his head.

The guard let out a stunned _"Oof!" _and collapsed forward, unconscious as he tumbled over the windowsill and out of the house. With one guard left, whoever was up on the roof decided that they'd used up their luck getting two of them to approach the window, and a figure swung inside from above.

Hiccup saw only long hair and the outline of a furred hood before the intruder whipped its arm around, fingers fastened around a sling. A tiny stone smacked against the bridge of the guard's nose right between his eyes, and he stiffened before going limp, using the last of his consciousness to reach up and touch his head where the rock had struck him.

Hiccup gasped and he reached out to catch the guard before he could fall noisily to the ground. The body fell into his arms and Hiccup braced himself to keep from dropping the guard, his prosthetic nearly sliding out from under him. He looked over his shoulder at the intruder, who promptly stepped into the candlelight. The glow of the candle filled in the woman's features: blonde hair arranged in a lengthy braid draped over her left shoulder and a soft, round face complete with a button nose that was absolutely adorable when it wasn't scrunched in fury. The woman's crimson shirt drank in the light from the candle, and her furred bracers reached all the way from her hands to her elbows, miscellaneous bindings looping unevenly around her upper arms and up to her shoulder pads.

She looked ready to go.

"Astrid?" Hiccup whispered, and he dropped the body of the guard still in his arms. He rose up and surged forward without even an instant of deliberation, crashing his lips against hers like it was the last thing he'd ever do. She'd already visited earlier tonight, and her unexpected return stoked a fire within him that threatened to burst to life around him. Astrid raised a hand to cup his cheek, and her latent frustration gave way to equal passion. Their lips moved against one another in sync, a raging heat blossoming in both of them.

She pulled away only when she remembered why she was even here to begin with. She had not just broken into Hiccup's old room and incapacitated three guards for a sexual liaison.

Hiccup beat her to it, though, his eyes trailing up and down the length of her body as if she were a specter liable to instantly disappear. "What are you doing here?"

"Rescuing your ass," Astrid answered. The sling she had used to throw the stone at the last guard still dangled in her fingers, and she followed Hiccup's eyes to look down at it. "Please don't make fun of me for using this."

"Make fun of you? Never," Hiccup said, only partially kidding.

"We need to go," Astrid said, tucking the sling at her belt. "I know your dad tends to be a heavy sleeper, but I'd rather not take any more chances than I already have."

Astrid turned back toward the window and took two quick steps toward it before Hiccup could even muster a response. "Go? Where are we going?"

Astrid cocked her head over her shoulder at him. "We're going to find Drago." Without another word, she crossed the room to the window and peered out as if to check on something.

"Ruff? We good?" she whispered.

A voice hissed up in answer, _"Yeah, they're both out. Now get down here."_

"Ruffnut?" Hiccup asked under his breath, surprised. He surged over to the window to stand by Astrid, finding the Thorston girl indeed standing on the ground beside the house. Two burly men were sprawled out in the grass near her, out cold.

"I may have needed help to pull this off. Come on." Astrid vaulted out of the window, grabbing onto the set of handholds leading to the ground and swiftly scaling the wall. Hiccup followed, slower as he made sure to lodge his prosthetic foot on each step. Losing his footing would be both noisy and potentially painful.

Hiccup landed on his feet in the dirt and brushed himself off, hands scraping against his armor. Astrid and Ruffnut spoke to one another in hushed voices as he approached.

"Thanks for the help, Ruff. And the sling." Astrid dumped the slingshot into Ruff's hands. The female twin grinned wickedly.

"No problem. Tuff won't even notice it was missing," Ruffnut said. "You two be careful out there, you hear? Get back in one piece."

Astrid gave a firm nod. "We will. Now get going, we'll talk again soon." Ruffnut nodded at her, glanced at Hiccup, and then took off, her shape disappearing down the hill with light, swift footsteps.

"Jailbreak?" Hiccup asked his wife.

"Like I said to Ruff, more of a house-arrest break," Astrid answered. She turned away from Hiccup and whistled, and out of the shadows came Toothless and Stormfly. The former saw Hiccup and lit up, bounding across the grass to see him. Equally relieved, Hiccup dropped to his knees and hugged the Night Fury tight.

"Hey, bud. Boy, am I glad to see you." Toothless warbled in response, agreeing. Hiccup looked up at Astrid again, his green eyes saying all that was on his mind.

"Oh, I almost forgot," she suddenly said, and she turned to rifle through Stormfly's saddle bags. She pulled Hiccup's helmet from one of the bags, turning it over in her hands and then tossing it to him. Hiccup caught the helmet and grazed his fingers across the leather, throwing another grateful look to his wife.

"Let's move," Astrid said, and they went to work preparing their dragons to fly.

* * *

Stoick couldn't sleep. It was an affliction that had steadily worsened as he grew older, causing him to wake from many bouts of fitful slumber in a single night. Generally, he would sleep deeply for a few hours at a time, wake, and then suffer through the agony of trying to return to sleep for about a half hour in between. On the few occasions that he actually made it through the night without waking up, he was rested like never before and attacked the day with an almost youthful gusto. On the worst nights, he would find himself staring at his bedroom ceiling for hours on end.

This was one of those nights. He had thought that maybe having Hiccup closer would help him sleep at least a little better, but the exact opposite had happened. He lied awake picturing his son, upset and stubbornly refusing to so much as talk to him, and it shook him to his core just like it had the night before and the night before that. The way that Hiccup had looked at him over the last few days was painful.

If only there was a good way to make the boy understand _why _this was happening. Now, when he wasn't thinking about how angry Hiccup was with him, Stoick instead thought of that terrible night on Meathead Island, years ago when he first crossed paths with the man named Drago Bludvist. He recalled the dying screams of so many chieftains as they burned alive, set aflame by dragonfire and the cruel whim of one man. The images, the screams were still so clear in his mind, and they haunted him like no other.

When Drago had never resurfaced after that night, he had thought that the threat had passed. Maybe… perhaps a dragon that Drago claimed to control had killed him somehow. Maybe someone else had slain him, and unknowingly saved the world. As more and more years went by, he became content with the idea. The nightmares had finally faded away, and he all but forgot the horrors of that night. Berk prospered, his people were safe, and that was all that mattered.

Now they'd all come rushing back, clear enough in his mind's eye that they might as well have just happened yesterday. Those chiefs had died so senselessly. They were good men, devoted to their people and families, and their lives ended because of that. And his son wanted to go _talk_ to the man who had taken them away.

And _Astrid, _she was practically supporting Hiccup without explicitly saying it. Their argument at the meeting today weighed heavily on him still, heavier than most arguments ever should. She was like a daughter to him, and had been for a long time. Her veiled rebellion was vexing him in a way she'd never managed before, prodding at him like one of Gobber's prosthetic attachments.

The soft _thud_ caught Stoick's attention. Despite growing older, his hearing hadn't left him yet. His eyes were slowly growing worse, and sometimes his body ached in ways that it hadn't in the past, but despite all the creeping marks that age had left on him, Stoick's ears were as strong as ever.

Out of instinct, Stoick rose and slid out from underneath his sleeping furs. He wore an enormous brown tunic and sleeping pants, and the locks of his beard were loose and unbound, so they stretched further down his chest than they did in public. Stoick left his room with cautious steps, listening for any further sounds. As he slithered into the common room, he reached for his sword, carefully lifting it off of the wall and holding it with one hand. Just in case.

The scrabbling came next, a scratching sound from the side of the house. Stoick's eyes narrowed. Perhaps a dragon or two was outside, being a nocturnal nuisance? It wasn't uncommon, especially among the Terrible Terrors. Or maybe it was one of those Thorston twins, malevolently mischievous at seemingly all hours of the day when both of them should really begin focusing on more mature pursuits. Calmly, Stoick walked to the back door, quietly pushing it open and walking out into the cold night air.

What he saw when he rounded the corner of the house stopped him in his tracks. Two dragons—Toothless and Stormfly—tapped their feet on the grass as their riders prepared to climb onto their backs. Both dragons sported saddle bags full of supplies. Hiccup and Astrid whispered to one another, conspiring and just about to hop into their dragons' saddles and take off.

"Hiccup?" Stoick said, voice shaking. His son froze and exchanged a sideways look with Astrid before turning to face him, one foot nestled in the stirrup on Toothless' left side.

"Dad?"

Stoick sucked in a tight breath, suddenly pleading. He knew what this was. "Please don't do this, son."

Hiccup shook his head. "I can't just stand by. We can't wait around for Drago to come to us. We have to go to him and reason with him."

Stoick shook his head, "No, you can't. It's not possible. He'll kill you."

"How do you know that?"

"Because that's what he does!" Stoick said, raising his voice a bit in an effort to coerce his son into listening. "He murders and pillages and destroys, and all for nothing! I'm _trying _to keep you safe, Hiccup, that's why I've done what I've done. _Please, _stop being so irresponsible—"

"Irresponsible? I'm trying to protect our people from war, what's irresponsible about that?"

Egged on, Stoick suddenly yelled, shattering the very air. "Because war is what he wants, son!"

Hiccup didn't answer for a moment, and he gave Astrid a passing glance. She looked troubled, not knowing what to do or say for once. The tension between the three of them bled, and Stoick's heart thundered in his chest.

Finally, Hiccup asked him, in a voice so low and melancholy and needing. Needing to _know._ "What do you mean?"

Stoick sighed and pointed his eyes at the ground. He had to play his last card, a last-ditch hope to make Hiccup understand. "Years ago, there was a great gathering of chieftains. It was in autumn, when the two of you were still little. You must have been nine… maybe ten."

Hiccup squinted as he searched his memory. It was fuzzy, but he managed to recall one autumn trip that he had been left behind for. "I think so… I remember that it wasn't time for The Thing yet."

"Aye. It was an emergency meeting, called to discuss the dragon scourge that we all faced. We wanted to work together and come to a solution."

"Nothing came of it, clearly."

Stoick shook his head, sadly denying Hiccup's assertion. "Oh, something came of it." He started to recall the memories, his next words bleeding from his tongue and painting a picture for Hiccup and Astrid. "We'd decided to meet on Meathead Island, since they had the largest hall to accommodate us with. At night, we debated every possible option. Every tribe's Chief was there, and all of them had something to say. Some spoke of mariner's myths of a land beyond the sea, others suggested undertaking a massive journey to search Helheim's Gate for the nest. In the end, we never could agree on one solution."

"Into our midst came a stranger. His hair was long and dark, and he spoke softly. He claimed no tribe. He carried no weapon and donned a cloak of dragon-skin. He said that he was Drago Bludvist, and that he was a man of the people, devoted to freeing mankind from the tyranny of dragons. He claimed that he alone could control the dragons and that he could keep us and our families safe. All he asked in return was that we bowed down and crown him king."

Hiccup and Astrid exchanged a disbelieving look. There were no _kings_ in the archipelago.

"We laughed and laughed. He glared at us, humiliated, and then he wrapped himself in his cloak and stormed out of the hall. I'll never forget what he said next," Stoick's face contorted as he let out a strained grimace, the memory virtually manifesting before him and seemingly bringing him physical pain, "He lifted his head over his shoulder and cried, _then see how well you do without me," _Stoick paused, "and from above, armored dragons descended on us, burning the hall to the ground."

Stoick seemed to shrivel from a man to a mere child, weakened as the screams echoed in his ears, unheard by all except for him. "Only three of us survived-Bertha, Mogadon, and I. But the rest of the chieftains met their end that night, and Drago Bludvist vanished into the wind." Stoick lowered his gaze from the stars and took two careful steps forward, holding out his hands cautiously. "Hiccup, Astrid… men who kill without reason _cannot_ be reasoned with. His mind will not be changed. Please, don't go."

Hiccup tightened his hold on Toothless' saddle, and he shook his head in disagreement. "That may be, but I still owe it to our people to try."

"Hiccup, he'll kill you!" Stoick snapped, anger bubbling forth again.

"Toothless will protect me," Hiccup assured him, "This is what I'm good at, Dad. A-and if I could change your mind about dragons, then I can change his, too. I'm going to stop this war before it can get started, and I'm going to do it the right way."

"Hiccup—"

"Please don't follow us," Hiccup interrupted, pleading. "You'll see, Dad. I'll be home soon."

Hiccup climbed into Toothless' saddle. "C'mon, bud," he ordered, and Toothless took off into the night. Astrid remained curiously on the ground, standing at Stormfly's side. Desperate, Stoick croaked out a plea, begging her not to follow Hiccup into the night. Maybe he could even get her to chase Hiccup down and bring him back. Unlikely, but he had to try.

"Astrid, please—"

"He killed all of those chiefs?" Astrid interrupted him, her glare boring into Stoick's soul. His story had had an effect on her.

Stoick nodded. Maybe he was getting somewhere? "He did. And he'd do it again if he could. Please, don't do this."

Astrid heaved and looked at her feet, surveying the ground. Stoick watched her muscles tense and her jaw tighten, and when she looked back up, he knew that he had lost her, too. "I have to," she insisted.

"Astrid—"

"I'm sorry, Chief." Astrid hopped onto Stormfly's back in one swift motion. "Go," she whispered, and Stormfly beat her wings to lift off the ground, ascending after Hiccup and Toothless. Stoick stood on the ground, frozen, and watched them vanish.

He turned and retreated into the house to gather his riding gear as quickly as he could. Both of their dragons were faster than his own, meaning that every minute counted. It was unlikely that he'd catch them, but he had to try. If they found Drago before he caught up to them, well… he didn't want to think about the horrors that might befall them.

As he gathered his cloak and Skullcrusher's saddle and other things, he begged every god that would listen to protect his son and daughter-in-law. He couldn't lose them, too.

* * *

Astrid and Stormfly rose up in the night sky. Hiccup and Toothless were ahead, and he must've noticed that she hadn't immediately followed, because Toothless was flying slowly enough for her to catch up. As Stormfly nestled in beside Toothless, Astrid glanced over her shoulder, watching as Berk shrank rapidly behind them. They needed to move; Stoick wouldn't just let them take off and wait for them to return. If he was half as terrified of what Drago might do as he seemed to be, he'd follow, no matter what Hiccup had asked of him.

"Where should we go?" Astrid asked.

Hiccup offered a slight shrug. "To be honest, I don't have a clue. Those trappers said their next shipment was due next week, right? If they haven't already headed Drago's way, they should be sailing there now."

Astrid pursed her lips, thinking. "We can head for Itchy Armpit. Odds are that Eret's ship is still in those general waters. If we can find the ship, we can get Eret to lead us to Drago."

"How exactly will we get him to do that?"

"Easy," Astrid said. She patted Stormfly's side, "Stormfly and I will take care of that, don't you worry."

Hiccup smiled. They were really doing this. "Thanks for helping me get out of there. I know my dad isn't going to be very happy with you."

"He's the least of our worries right now," Astrid masked her frown behind a hard, stoic expression. There was grave danger ahead.

"You're right. We need to stop this war. Let's go find Drago and talk some sense into him." Toothless rumbled in response, seemingly uncertain, and Hiccup patted his side. "Don't worry, Toothless. I'm not going to let anything happen to you." He looked at Astrid and Stormfly, "Either of you."

Hiccup pressed his knees into Toothless' flank and the Night Fury sped up, getting ahead of Astrid. Nervously, Astrid looked down and touched a gentle hand to her stomach. She glanced back up, looking at Hiccup's back.

He still didn't know. And he wouldn't, Astrid decided. Not until they'd ended this war.

Not until she killed Drago Bludvist where he stood.

"Let's not lose 'em, Stormfly," she said, and she spurred her dragon onward into the night.


	6. Trapper's Advocate

_**6\. Trapper's Advocate**_

They'd been flying for a few hours when they finally spotted the ship.

The first order of business had been to fly in the general direction of Itchy Armpit. The land was far to the east, and it took them 2 whole hours of fast flying to get there. Eventually, the outline of the region had cropped up into view, shadowed by the total darkness under the new moon. From there, they pivoted north, past the trappers' ruined fort and back out onto the sea with the help of Stormfly's acute nose.

Hiccup and Astrid didn't speak much during the journey. There wasn't much to say, really. They were on a mission, though the objectives of their respective missions were very, very different.

How was she supposed to tell Hiccup that she wanted to kill Drago? He would freak out on her, no doubt. He'd go on some spiel about how they couldn't do that, how they could change Drago's mind, and that they didn't just go around killing people.

Okay, maybe killing Drago wasn't the number one goal. Her main objective was to simply scout out Drago's forces. How many men? How many dragons? Did Drago _really _control them? These were questions that needed to be answered if they hoped to survive a war. Hiccup and Toothless were her backup, the best rider and the stealthiest dragon on Berk. While they were scouting, she could talk him out of going down there to meet with Drago and focus on getting them back safely.

But if the opportunity to kill Drago arose, then she would take it.

Stoick's story was still fresh on her mind. To kill a group of men without reason… how many others had Drago senselessly murdered for his own gain, or out of vengeance for a personal slight? There was no way that this kind of man would change his mind and disband his armies, no matter how persuasive Hiccup could be. He might even kill them if he got his hands on them, like Stoick so clearly feared. She couldn't live with Hiccup's blood on her hands, or either of their dragons, when she could stop him from ever going down there to try and treat with him in the first place.

Drago Bludvist needed to die, and there was no other option. It was just a matter of _when _that would happen. If she did manage to take his life tonight, she would suffer her husband's anger after the job was done. He might not speak to her for a couple of days, but Berk would be safe. _Their baby _would be safe. And if she told him about the child after this was over, she very well might even wash away his ire.

It wasn't a good solution, but it was still a solution. And it was better than _Hiccup's_ solution.

Eventually, they left Itchy Armpit behind and found themselves on the open sea, keeping their course due north. A few miles later, Astrid spotted the ship to her right. Its unusual twin sails rose up into the sky, the ship moving slow in the gentle breeze.

"Hiccup," she hissed, and he turned his head from looking to his left. "There they are," Astrid pointed down at the ship, and Hiccup nodded, probably smiling behind his mask. Just as they'd hoped, the trapper crew hadn't strayed far, keeping to the same general waters for several days. If their deadline was sometime next week like they'd said, they were likely heading Drago's way now.

"Stay close," he whispered, "We don't want them seeing us just yet. Let's see if we can find Eret."

Astrid nodded and had Stormfly keep close to Toothless. Carefully, they tilted to the right, getting closer to the ship while staying high in the night sky. They flew in wide circles, Hiccup leaning over Toothless' side and peering through a spyglass he kept in his saddle bag. He'd lifted his mask so that he could see better.

While he searched, he took a little time to examine the trapping barge better. He'd only really gotten one glimpse at it before, back at the fort several days ago. Judging from what he could see now, even in the darkness, Eret's ship was quite the vessel. It was wide and spacious, and its deck was armed at regular intervals by moderately sized ballistae. Hiccup guessed that the trappers loaded nets into the launchers—that might explain how they'd fired nets at them so accurately a few days ago.

Done admiring the ship, Hiccup pivoted his focus to the back of the vessel, where a helmsman was manning the wheel. A single figure paced back and forth along the deck, apparently dishing out orders to the other men. It was hard to miss him; his black hair was unique to every other crewman that Hiccup could see, and his bleached fur vest outfitted his broad, muscular frame.

There was no mistaking Eret, son of Eret.

"There's our boy," Hiccup announced, pulling the spyglass away from his eye and casually tossing it to Astrid. She caught the spyglass with one hand and gazed through it, scanning the ship until she found him pacing the stern. Astrid let a wicked grin rise to her face.

She closed the spyglass, tossing it successfully back into Hiccup's hands. "Let's get him."

Hiccup smiled and pulled his mask back down before stashing the spyglass away. "You heard her, bud. Wanna fake them out?" He patted Toothless' side and leaned forward in the saddle, grabbing onto the handles and changing the tailfin's position so they could dive. Astrid followed close behind and they plummeted, zooming down on the unsuspecting trappers. The sky screamed as Toothless picked up speed, the lethal song of a Night Fury echoing across the open water.

"_Night Fury!"_

The crew of trappers panicked, having no way to know wherethe Night Fury was coming from or why. Hiccup and Toothless played the part of diversion perfectly, zipping past the ship harmlessly. Right as they passed over the ship, Hiccup saw Eret ducking, unaware that a totally different dragon had its sights set specifically on him.

Hiccup looked back as he zoomed past the ship and watched Astrid and Stormfly snatch Eret and whisk him away. The trapper shouted and screamed as he was suddenly lifted into the air and Toothless slowed, allowing Astrid to catch up to them. Stormfly squawked, trilling excitedly as she rose up to meet them, gliding once more and dangling a man from her claws. Eret held on tight to the Nadder's leg, his life quite literally depending on it as the sea grew further and further away from him.

"Up here," Hiccup barked, sliding his mask up off of his face. Eret met his eyes and flinched, so Hiccup cracked a wide smile. "Eret, son of Eret! Fancy seeing you here," Hiccup greeted, grinning like he was speaking to an old friend. "Beautiful night, isn't it?"

"You again?" Eret groaned, flinching again as Stormfly's claws clenched tight around his shoulders. His feet flailed as he kept looking back and forth between his sudden captors and the ocean hundreds of feet below him. "What do you want? Isn't it past your bedtime?" he asked testily, the muscles in his neck tensing as he willed himself to avoid looking down any longer.

Hiccup shrugged off the vague insult, still grinning, "It's an easy ask, I promise. You're gonna show us the way to Drago."

Eret looked up at them and scoffed. "Ha! And help a couple of dragon riders sneak into Drago's camp? You can just kill me now."

"That can be arranged," Astrid piped up from above. She leaned a bit sideways so that she could look down at the trapper helplessly hanging from her dragon's claws, "Really easily, actually. Stormfly, drop him."

Eret could barely even make a face before Stormfly relaxed her grip. Gravity instantly took full control of Eret's body and he plummeted toward the sea, screaming and thrashing as he fell.

"Good girl!" Astrid praised. Stormfly squawked in answer, absorbing the approval excitedly. Astrid pointed a finger downward. "Stormfly, fetch!" Stormfly immediately looked down and dove, closing the distance to Eret's falling form in seconds.

"_Okay, okay! I'll take you!" _Hiccup could hear Eret yelling, and it brought an unusual smile to his face. He leaned over Toothless' side and watched with undivided attention as Stormfly dropped, folding her wings against her body to fall as fast as possible and catch up. Her claws fastened around Eret's shoulders and she jerked up, jostling the trapper in her grasp. With another happy trill, the Deadly Nadder spread her wings and flapped up, thrusting onward and upward with each burst until she once again reached Hiccup and Toothless' height.

Hiccup looked up at Astrid as she floated back up. She smirked at him, joining her hands at the knuckles and stretching her hands in satisfaction. "Works every time. Now, Eret, son of Eret, let's go find someplace to talk."

* * *

They flew just a few miles due east, scanning the endless sea until at last, a stretch of frozen land came into view. Bits of shattered icebergs peeked through the surface of the sea, forming rings of ice surrounding a small glacier. Thick snow blanketed the islet of ice, the lasting residue of the cold winter. Though spring was here, it was still punishingly cold this far north and the snow remained.

At the command of a sharp whistle, Toothless and Stormfly descended, and as soon as land was rushing beneath the dragons' feet, Astrid ordered Stormfly to drop Eret.

"_Rawk!" _Stormfly trilled and released her grip, letting Eret fall a solid ten feet into the snowbank. The trapper yelled as he sank into the snow, immediately scrambling to his feet and trying to wade through the snow and escape. It was thick, and his legs sank halfway to his knees into the snow with each step. His desperate dash turned out to be hopelessly futile, and Stormfly landed right on top of him, squawking happily and nuzzling up against the trapper like he was a hatchling.

Astrid hopped off out of her saddle and Toothless landed beside her, a resounding _click_ of metal coming from the rigging controlling his tailfin as Hiccup swung off the dragon's back and to the ground. Astrid fished her axe out of the netted pouch tied to Stormfly's side, hefting it in one hand like she was ready to use it. She curved around to her dragon's front, peering down where Eret's head was poking out from underneath her belly. Stormfly's weight easily held down the rest of his body, so it was all they could see of the trapper. Hiccup approached from directly in front of the perched Nadder, and Eret scowled at them.

"This is undignified," he groused.

"Help us and you'll get to forget this ever happened soon enough," Astrid replied with an equal scowl that silenced Eret's whinging.

Eret tried to fight, squirming underneath Stormfly's weight, but the effort was useless, and he huffed, resorting—pitifully—to begging. Stormfly tutted, seemingly laughing at him. "You have to let me go; Drago is expecting another batch of dragons by morning."

"We know. So, here's how this is going to play out: you and your crew are going to sail for Drago's camp, just like normal, and we're going to follow from a distance. Once you get there, you're going to get Drago to come out, and we'll handle the rest from there."

Eret scoffed, offering a _hard _roll of his eyes. "And what are you going to do when he does? Kill him? That'll never work," he contended.

Hiccup cut in, "We're going to change his mind about dragons."

Eret paused, broke a patronizing smile, and laughed out loud.

"What's so funny?" Hiccup growled, his eyes narrowing.

Eret stifled his laughter and offered up a sardonic grin, a small tear forming in the corner of his eye from laughing as hard as he had. His breath crystallized as he spoke, puffs of warm air shading his image. "You won't be changing any minds around there, lad."

"I can change yours; right here, right now," Hiccup said. He turned his eyes to his dragon, "Toothless, c'mere, bud."

Toothless bounded over, tongue dangling out of his mouth, and Hiccup reached down to pull the catch on the rigging and extend his tailfin completely. Eret watched the mechanism work and he involuntarily raised an eyebrow, confused as he eyed the red prosthetic fin.

"What…?"

"I met Toothless after I shot him down during a dragon raid. When I tracked him down in the forest and found that my machine had ripped his tailfin off, I decided to let him go. He had every opportunity to kill me. But he chose not to. Does that sound like a vicious, mindless creature to you, Eret?" Hiccup explained. He pointed to Stormfly, "Astrid here almost killed Stormfly in battle, but when Stormfly had a chance to get revenge for that, she didn't. Once you earn a dragon's trust, they'll do anything for you."

"You don't have to believe us, but that's the truth. Dragons don't deserve to be trapped and forced to fight. Your lunatic boss wants to conquer the world with them, and we cannot let that happen," Astrid added. She scrutinized what little she could see of the trapper, blue eyes scanning his face. She gestured at him, "You said things didn't end well for the last man that showed up to him empty-handed."

"If we're being honest, that guy isn't around anymore."

Astrid flinched for the briefest moment. "Well, you can't possibly enjoy working for someone like that."

Eret averted his eyes, lazily avoiding her assertion, and drummed up an excuse. "He's not a good boss, but he always pays, so my crew and I do the jobs."

Astrid scowled, "Is that really how you want to live? Groveling at the foot of a warlord and feeding him innocent dragons in exchange for money?"

"Look, girl. When you come into Drago Bludvist's employ, there's only one way that you leave," Eret blurted. He didn't elaborate; he didn't have to. The ominous way that Eret held his tongue, like he was debating whether or not to go on, was enough to get his point across.

Astrid looked at Hiccup. Maybe he'd take Eret's words as proof that Drago couldn't be treated with, but he wasn't making any faces or gestures that suggested that. Astrid cast another glare down on the trapper, her blue eyes burning like Nadder fire. "If Drago starts a war, the blood of everyone who dies in it is going to be on your hands. And if that's what happens, you won't want to be Berk's enemy."

"And why's that?"

"Because Vikings don't stop. We're stubborn like that. You threaten what we love, we keep coming until we crush you. And we love our dragons."

"What she said," Hiccup concurred. "Make the right choice, here. Please."

Eret squinted at them and then flashed a sly smile. "What's going to be in it for me?"

Hiccup opened his mouth to speak, but Astrid stepped forward and he closed his mouth. She raised her arm, her trusty battle-axe held tight in her grip. Hiccup nearly shouted out in protest as Astrid brought her arm down, but she merely threw the axe straight down, burying its blade in the snow mere inches from Eret's head. The trapper flinched back—or at least as well as he was able to—and stared in shock at the pristine steel, his reflection glinting off of the blade.

"I'll let you choose," Astrid said. Eret craned his neck to look up at her, mouth dangling open a bit to make a small 'o' shape. Enjoying the effect her little threat had, Astrid counted off her suggestions on her fingers, another fiery glare burning into Eret's soul. "Option one, I lop your head off now. Option two, we pick you up and drop you screaming into the sea, and then we go snatch up someone else in your crew. Something tells me they'll be a lot more agreeable to our requests."

Eret paled, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped in surprise. Astrid held her glare, metaphysical daggers spearing into the captured trapper at her feet. Maybe she wasn't serious, but was calling her bluff worth the risk? She'd already commanded her dragon to drop him to his death once, after all.

Hiccup stared at his wife in surprise. Maybe he should just let her do all of the talking. Like, forever. About anything.

Eret sighed, conceding. "Alright. I like being alive, so I'll help you on your fool's errand. But _no one_ can know about it. I can convince my crew well enough that you let me go, but Drago Bludvist won't be so foolish. Whatever you're going to do, you stay clear of my ship and you stay clear of me."

"We can do that," Hiccup agreed.

Astrid nodded. "Pleasure doing business with you, Eret." She returned to Stormfly's side and stashed her axe back in the netting before climbing onto the Nadder's back. Stormfly squawked and squirmed, preparing to lift off and unintentionally squeezing Eret into the snow.

"_Mmmmf—get this thing…" _Stormfly relaxed her accidental pressure, "off of me!" Eret wheezed, gasping for air. Stormfly squawked again and reached her head down, suddenly grooming Eret's hair. The trapper yelped, mortified, and Stormfly pulled away without a care and squawked, perplexed by the man's reaction. When she did that to Astrid, the Viking girl giggled, but this new and enticing stranger didn't seem to get the message.

Once Hiccup was on Toothless' back, Astrid gave the word. "Let's go, Stormfly!" she directed, and the Nadder lifted off of the snowy ground and back into the air. Toothless followed with a running start and leapt off of the glacier, beating his wings to follow with Hiccup.

Just another few miles later, when Eret's ship came into view, Stormfly picked up speed. Hiccup and Toothless stayed behind, not wanting to alert the crew by diving alongside Astrid and Stormfly.

Astrid leaned off the side of her saddle, looking down on Eret with a dangerous glare. "Remember the deal, Eretson. I'd hate for something bad to happen to your _wooden_ ship in such cold waters. It's a pretty boat, believe it or not."

Then Stormfly relaxed her claws and Eret plummeted into the water near his ship. When he resurfaced, he looked up for the Nadder and the woman riding on its back, but the dragon and the girl had disappeared into the night.

The trapper's crew shouted as they spotted their captain, and Eret waved his arms to signal for help back onto the deck. Up above, unbeknownst to the gang of dragon trappers, two dragons and their riders settled in to tail them from behind, wherever it was that they were going.

* * *

Stoick stood at his dragon's side in the yard, rifling through his saddlebag to ensure that he had everything he would need. A rolled-up sleeping fur was clenched in his free hand, taken from Hiccup's old bed upstairs. It was a cold night, and the new moon offered no favors in the form of light. It would be even colder during flight.

A low groan came from the foot of the hill and Stoick looked over his shoulder, spotting Gobber leading Grump up to the lawn. The blacksmith looked up and caught the Chief's eyes, and Stoick frowned before turning back to check his saddlebag again.

"Stoick?" Gobber said as he climbed the hill.

"Gobber. Are you all packed?"

"Aye, and still half-asleep. Are ye sure this can't wait until morning? Surely, they can't make much progress finding Drago in this weather. We could leave at first light."

"No. Every second we've already lost is precious. Both of their dragons are faster than ours. We need to find them, and quick. If Hiccup and Astrid find Drago before we find them…" Stoick shivered, not for the first time that night. "I don't want to think about what might happen to them."

"Thinking about what happened?"

Stoick sighed, "I wish I could avoid it, but I can't. Everywhere I turn, I think I see that man's shadow. He's a killer, and Hiccup and Astrid are flying right into his hands."

Gobber chewed on his lip, the curly braids on the end of his flaxen mustache bouncing about. "I'm with you, Stoick. We'll find them, and until we do, that Night Fury'll protect those two, you can count on that."

"I hope you're right, old friend." Stoick hopped onto Skullcrusher and grabbed onto the bony, armor-like plates lining the dragon's body, using them as handholds to climb into the saddle atop the Rumblehorn's back. Skullcrusher grunted, raising and pressing his powerful feet into the cold ground.

Stoick leaned forward, holding the sleeping fur towards Skullcrusher's face. Normally, Hiccup's scent would've been long gone from the blanket by now, but with the boy spending the last few nights in his old room (albeit unwillingly), his scent was surely almost fresh.

"Find him, Skullcrusher," Stoick requested, and the large dragon's nostrils expanded as it took in a deep breath of the scent. Skullcrusher offered a few more sniffs and then looked to the sea, taking one more deep breath to track the smell.

Skullcrusher began lifting off of his own accord, enthralled by the scent and intent on following it. "He's got the trail," Stoick muttered, and Skullcrusher suddenly jerked forward, forcing Stoick to grab onto the dragon's twin horns in order to hold on. "C'mon Gobber!" he shouted, and the blacksmith took off much more slowly behind him, Grump beating his wings rapidly in an attempt to make up ground.

Skullcrusher roared, his breath nearly crystallizing in the frigid air, and flew off into the night.

* * *

Eret's ship sliced through the sea, heading further and further north. Sheets of broken ice floated on the water's surface, extending off of small, treacherous formations of rock. The night persisted, darkened as a result of the new moon, but experience told both Hiccup and Astrid that morning was near.

Astrid hoped that they'd reach Drago's camp before sunrise. She would really prefer to do this under the cover of darkness.

"Eret must have dragons trapped in his ship's hold. We should free them once we're done here," Hiccup suggested, yanking her from her thoughts.

"Definitely," Astrid replied bluntly. Odin bless him, he was still thinking that they'd be successful in talking Drago down. Her husband's fatal flaw was that he was optimistic. Normally, it was endearing. Inspiring, even. But tonight, Astrid's gut roiled with an uncertainty that she hadn't felt in a long time. She didn't know what to think.

"Is everything okay?" he suddenly asked, looking at her through the holes in his mask and probably frowning. "You seem tense."

"I'm fine." An obvious lie.

"Well, that's both a thorough and believable answer."

Astrid growled, raising her hands up to her face to hold her head with. "Hiccup, I'm fine, seriously. I'm just not sure what we should be expecting. I want to be ready for anything. We're kind of walking into the dragon's den here."

"We'll be fine," Hiccup assured her, "and if something does go wrong, Toothless and Stormfly will protect us."

Stormfly squawked, though whether it was at the sound of her name or in agreement with Hiccup, Astrid wasn't sure at first. The Nadder cocked her head in Astrid's general direction, peering at her through her peripheral vision, and squawked again, as if to say this time that yes, she'd protect Astrid at all costs.

Astrid smiled in spite of herself, in spite of the secrets she was keeping from Hiccup, in spite of the high-risk but necessary plan that she was about to hatch once she got a good look at Drago. "Thanks, girl. You're the best." Astrid stroked Stormfly's head and crown of spines, grinning harder as the Nadder leaned ever so slightly into her touch and hummed.

"Check it out," Hiccup called to her, eyes pointed forward. "I'm guessing that's our destination."

Astrid followed Hiccup's eyes and saw the huge sea cave. It looked like an enormous glacier, a plateau of ice that glowed a bit even in the darkness. Thick rivulets of dark rock teemed underneath the ice, bleeding through in places where the rock was too thick and dense to be completely frozen over. A narrow yet titanic crevice split the rock, Eret's sloop quickly pacing towards it.

"That must be the front door," Astrid said, pointing to the fissure.

"I think so, too. Let's look for another way in, we don't want to be spotted the moment we fly in there."

"Good call," Astrid agreed. At least he was thinking a little strategically. Hiccup clicked his tongue and squeezed his legs into Toothless' flank, pushing the Night Fury to fly faster. Astrid and Stormfly fell in line behind them, picking up speed as Eret's ship slid through the cleft in the sea cave's shell and out of sight.

The two dragon riders flew over the huge cave, finding that it was attached to the end of a treacherous-looking landmass. A mountain speared at the sky behind the cave, a blanket of snow covering its peak and trailing down either side of it. The land beyond that mountain was craggy and uncharted. Astrid wondered if the bluffs teemed with dragons, or if they had been picked clean by Drago's men.

The roof of the cave was partially open, holes in the rocky roof letting out the faintest hints of light. Hiccup looked behind him to make sure that Astrid was still there, and then in one swift move he and Toothless dove through the nearest opening. Astrid and Stormfly followed without a word, the cold wind stinging the former's cheeks.

They dropped through the break in the roof of the cave, finding themselves in what felt like another world. Walls more than a hundred feet high and made of rock reached up on all sides, hanging over a surprisingly large inlet of water. Astrid's eyes widened at what she saw. Countless ships made of wood and reinforced with metal sat in the sea, meticulously arranged to surround a single, larger vessel that must've been the flagship. Large torches cast light both over the ships and at various points around the cave, limiting places that one could perch and spy.

They kept close to the roof to avoid being easily spotted, and Hiccup guided Toothless to a hidden alcove nearby, disappearing over the ridge to hide in the resulting darkness. Stormfly flapped her wings quickly in order to reach them, silently landing next to Toothless. The rise that Hiccup had picked was perfectly hidden from the torchlight and high above the camp, allowing them to see it in its entirety. The pillar of rock nearly reached the roof, making it unreachable except by dragon. Hiccup stood on the edge, having dismounted Toothless.

"This is one hell of a camp," Astrid whispered, blue eyes flicking rapidly back and forth. Her eyes widened in trepidation as she glanced toward the center of the huge fleet, just beside the flagship.

"You can say that again."

"And what's _that?" _Astrid added, stabbing a finger down below to what she'd seen. A thick chain extended from the edge of the fleet's flagship and dipped into the water, which was blurred by massive air bubbles coming from _something_ underneath the surface.

"A really big dragon," Hiccup hypothesized. He stroked the faint hint of stubble on his chin, "Judging by the size of those air bubbles, I'd say some kind of Leviathan, maybe Class 5 or Class 6. If Drago's building a dragon army, maybe that thing is some kind of general."

"That could be a problem."

"Only if we provoke it, which we won't." Hiccup pulled his spyglass out of his saddlebag, and Toothless suddenly growled, baring his teeth and glaring at the foamy air bubbles coming from the water. "Toothless, what's wrong?" Hiccup looked down at the fleet again. "Okay, maybe I stand corrected. Whatever that is, Toothless doesn't like it."

"He's not the only one. Can we finish scouting this place and get the Hel out of here?"

"Let's find Drago first." Astrid rolled her eyes, biting back the urge to snap at him. Hiccup opened his spyglass completely and peered through it, biting his tongue in concentration as he scanned the camp. "I'm seeing a lot of domes on these ships. Dragon traps, I'm guessing. And there's a lot of men, too. Eret wasn't kidding."

"Speaking of that spawn of Loki…" Astrid interrupted, pointing just off the edge of the collection of ships. Eret's sloop was sliding through the waters, slowly approaching the fleet.

Hiccup swung his spyglass around for an instant, scanning the trapper's ship and then turning back to the fleet. "I don't trust him," he offered.

"Neither do I, but he's the reason we found this place. Let's just hope he doesn't raise the alarm the second he speaks to someone."

Hiccup piloted the spyglass back and forth across the flagship, perusing the deck for anyone who stood out. Eventually, he sucked in a deep breath. "I think I found him. Check out the bow of the main ship, by the chain." Hiccup handed his spyglass over to Astrid, "Didn't Dad say long black hair?"

Astrid took the spyglass and gazed through it, pointing the piece toward the bow of the flagship like Hiccup said. Her eye focused on a large, brawny figure, a mountain of a man glaring down at the water. He stood hunched over, one of his massive hands wrapped around the shaft of a bullhook, and his preposterously long black curls fell around his thick head like some sort of shawl.

"And a cloak of dragon-skin…" Astrid recalled, focusing on the long piece of clothing wrapping around his left arm. She couldn't make out the exact details of the cloak, but she couldn't help but wonder what dragon he'd taken it from, how terrified the poor beast must've been when the monstrous man killed it. "That's him. That's definitely him."

Astrid took a deep, shaky breath, and then reached out to hand the spyglass back to Hiccup. He looked through the eyepiece again, "Let's head down there and talk—" he heard Stormfly walk forward and pulled the spyglass away, looking over to his wife and her dragon.

Hiccup froze.

Stormfly was two paces from the edge of the pillar, and Astrid was on her back with her axe in hand.

"Astrid? What are you doing?" Hiccup asked, but in the back of his mind he already knew. He thought his heart stopped for an instant, his whole system faltering for all of a second as he watched the axe that he'd made for be brandished as a murder weapon.

Astrid looked back at him and frowned, bright blue eyes quaking in place. She looked like she regretted what she was about to do. "I'm sorry, Hiccup," was all she said, and with a simple stroke of her hand she sent Stormfly running. The Nadder took two quick steps and leaped, lunging off of the pillar and taking flight. Astrid turned her back on her husband, tightening her grip around the handle of her axe and turning her storming eyes on the fleet below. On _Drago Bludvist._

"No—no, no, no!" Hiccup stammered, careful not to shout and cause his voice to carry through the wide-open cave. He whirled around and leaped onto Toothless' back, hearing the Night Fury's startled warble as he slid his prosthetic foot into the catch. The tailfin opened with a _click. "Go, bud!" _Hiccup hissed, and Toothless ran forward and bounded off of the rock.

Astrid was already halfway to the ship, axe held high. She held in the war cry threatening to burst from her lungs, knowing that letting one loose would surely doom her. She was aware that Hiccup was without a doubt following close behind her, trying to catch up. And she knew how angry he was going to be with her. But she had to do this—she wasn't going to get another chance like this.

_Just a little further, _she said in her mind. Stormfly wasn't making a sound, and she was flying at top speed, sights set on the man below. _Almost there, almost there, come on…_

She saw the dart whizz into Stormfly's neck, sticking there and flaunting a flash of red on its other end. Two more darts quickly followed, striking home and injecting whatever vile toxin was contained inside them. Astrid gasped and Stormfly went limp almost instantly, head slumping forward and wings faltering.

"Stormfly!" Astrid cried, and the Nadder's body randomly tilted to the right. The dragon veered utterly off-course and tumbled to the deck towards the center of the ship. Astrid braced for impact, thankful that at least she hadn't been shot down high up in the sky. She did her best to guide Stormfly into the lightest landing she could, and then pulled herself free from Stormfly's body just before the Nadder could smash into the deck. Astrid flew a few feet away, flailing as she tried to find purchase on the deck, but she slipped as soon as her foot found solid ground. Behind her, Stormfly crashed, unmoving as she skidded a few feet in the other direction and left deep claw marks in the deck.

Before Astrid could shout for her dragon and bolt to her defense, the roar of soldiers alerted her. Astrid whipped her head around, watching as men clad in mostly identical sets of armor charged at her from all sides, their weapons clanging either in their sheaths or their hands. Astrid raised her axe, already calculating how she could fight off a few of them. She just needed to survive until…

The sky ripped apart with the telltale screech of a Night Fury, echoing off the walls and ricocheting across the ships. Drago's warriors all skidded to a stop, frozen in place by the all-too-familiar sound.

"_Stop!" _came the yell of a person. Toothless landed at Astrid's side and Hiccup leaped out of the saddle, landing on the dragon's other side and brandishing Inferno. With the click of a button, the blade extended and awakened with a blaze of brilliant fire.

"What did you do?" Hiccup stammered, voice at a whisper. He looked at his wife, paralyzing fear written on his face. He'd wanted to approach peacefully, and she'd ruined any chance of that. "What did you do?" he repeated, bewildered.

Astrid took another glance at the horde of soldiers, now advancing again as Hiccup and Toothless joined Astrid on the deck. All eyes seemed to be on the Night Fury, cries of bloodlust rippling through the ranks.

There were so _many _of them.

"We're getting out of here—come on!" Hiccup patted Toothless' side, gesturing for Astrid to climb on. "Toothless, let's grab Stormfly and—"

A dart identical to the ones that had embedded themselves in Stormfly's neck flitted into Toothless' skin, puncturing the softer scales on his neck. The Night Fury seized and split the night with a pained wheeze before crumpling to the ground, the only confirmation that he was even still alive being the rise and fall of the dragon's torso as he breathed.

"Toothless!" Hiccup knelt by his dragon, trying to shake Toothless awake, but to no avail. Astrid saw a man in the crowd dressed in robes and a hood made from the skin of a polar bear, the shape of the animal's head kept intact in the garb. The soldier handled a blowpipe, smiling as he loaded another dart into the shaft with his other hand.

Hiccup snapped his head up again and rose to his feet as more soldiers advanced. "Wait!" he shouted, and surprisingly, the soldiers came to a stop, though it was probably more to fence them in behind a wall of spears and swords.

"We're not here to cause trouble, we just want to talk to Drago!" Hiccup tried—it was technically true, at least for him.

A man stepped through the crowd of soldiers. He was short and had a narrow head, his black hair trimmed tight so that it practically hugged the skin of his scalp. His mouth and chin were marked by a thin but dark goatee, and similar facial hair ran up his jawline to connect with the hair on his head. His skin was a dark olive, and he wore a set of form-fitting black armor with deep red accents. A prominent belt buckle decorated his waist, shaped into an intricate insignia. A faded scar appeared to run over his right eye, slicing through his eyebrow and curling around the outside of the eye.

The man wore a cruel smile. He must've been a general, judging by the way the men waited behind him. "Talk to Drago, you say? Well, why didn't you just say so?" Hiccup frowned and opened his mouth to speak, caught off-guard, but he was instantly interrupted. "Put them in chains!" the general ordered, raising his voice, "And place their dragons in the traps!"

The general placed his hands behind his back as a dozen men surged forward. Astrid braced, but her better judgment kept her from raising her axe. They'd already been terribly outnumbered, and without their dragons, the odds against them were even worse. Fighting back now would likely earn her and Hiccup a bloody death, or a couple of those sleeping darts, if they wanted them alive that badly. Instead, she glanced at the collection of soldiers, studying their features with the few precious seconds she still had.

_Collection _was one of the only proper words to describe the band of warriors. Though they all wore similar variations of the same clothes, their features were of a dramatic range—most notably, Astrid found, their skin colors. Some of the soldiers had fair skin like her and Hiccup, others were dark, and others still possessed skin tones radically in between the two. The men of this army were from all around the known world, possibly even further. Seeing the diversity in the men, Astrid half-expected to spot dwarves or elves in the ranks, maybe even a Jötunn or two.

She and Hiccup were quickly shackled by long, heavy chains made of a dark, almost black metal. Their weapons were taken from them and they were searched for any hidden arms. Astrid felt particularly uncomfortable under the lecherous gaze of the men searching her, a paralyzing chill snaking its way up her spine. She absently wondered how many women were on these ships, if any.

Once Astrid and Hiccup were sufficiently examined, the men turned their sights on the dragons. Toothless and Stormfly continued to snooze on the deck, knocked into unconsciousness by the sleeping darts. Their heads were quickly shackled, and against the better judgment that had prevented her from resisting being put in chains herself, Astrid jerked forward in defense of her dragon.

"No! Don't touch her!" Astrid snarled, bucking against her manacles and baring her teeth.

One of the men backhanded her. Astrid's cold cheek stung from the blow and she reeled, stumbling sideways into Hiccup. His limited grip managed to keep them both on their feet. "Astrid!" he gasped, absorbing her. Worry creased across his face, "Are you all right?" he murmured. Astrid shot him a glare, and Hiccup looked up at the man who had struck her. "What was that for?"

The soldier who had hit Astrid ignored him, continuing to work with a few others on binding Toothless and Stormfly. As they worked, the olive-skinned general stepped up to Hiccup and Astrid, an unsettling smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes flicked back and forth between the two before settling on Astrid.

The man reached out with bony fingers, unexpectedly stroking one up Astrid's cheek. "Pretty young thing," he said, and Astrid immediately jerked away from his touch as he just barely got a feel of her blonde hair.

"Keep your hands off of me," Astrid's lips curled back into a fierce, animalistic snarl.

The general just continued to smile, lecherous eyes sparkling with amusement. "Spirited, too," he said, and he affixed a neutral, sideways look on Hiccup. "Yes, Drago Bludvist will be very interested in meeting both of you."

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**Please consider sending in a review, I live for feedback. The ball is rolling now, and this isn't the end of things not going according to plan. Thanks to all for reading and see you next week!**


	7. In the Dragon's Den

*****AUTHOR'S NOTE 2/13/20: I'M TAKING A STEP BACK FROM THE STORY THIS WEEK. IT'S BEEN A ROUGH ONE AND I'M PAYING THE PRICE FOR NOT STUDYING AS MUCH AS I SHOULD BE. THE STORY WILL RESUME UPDATING ON 2/21. PLEASE DO NOT SEND ME REVIEWS OR MESSAGES CALLING FOR AN UPDATE.*****

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**Notice: This chapter contains a higher volume of coarse language than in previous chapters, as well as references to sexual acts of the non-consensual variety.**

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_**7\. In the Dragon's Den**_

Their chains clanked as they walked, the resulting metallic shrill echoing down the corridor. Men clad in black armor stood stock still down either side of the walkway, faces totally void of emotion. Another small contingent of soldiers walked behind Hiccup and Astrid, who in turn were forced to walk behind the olive-skinned general from before.

Hiccup refused to look at Astrid, his features paralyzed in a brooding frown. He looked _hurt, _and Astrid knew full well why. He had thought that she was with him on his plan to go talk to Drago, when in fact she hadn't been. She'd already predicted a long time ago that he wouldn't be very happy with her when he learned the truth, but she had also been expecting her axe blade to be coated in Drago's blood when he confronted her. She had not intended to be captured.

In retrospect, everything about this was fucked. Coming here in the first place and doing anything more than scouting had been monumentally stupid. She'd managed to blind her own self to the fact, setting herself on a foolish quest to see the coming war end before it could begin and not even slightly wavering on that goal in the hours of time she'd had between the decision and the actual action. She should've abandoned those plans as soon as they infiltrated the camp. She could've talked Hiccup out of going down there himself, but it turned out that she was apparently unable to talk herself out of the same thing.

Finally, they reached a door, still flanked by men on either side. The door was huge, larger than any actually needed to be, and its wood had been painted a dark, crimson color. The wood was inlaid with gold, the metal trim forming the shape on an odd symbol. Astrid recognized it as the same one on the general's belt buckle, and now that she had a much larger image to scrutinize, it appeared that the symbol was made up of a sword bisecting the stylized head of a Monstrous Nightmare.

The general stopped in front of the door and knocked, his knuckles striking the door with a deep _clang. _So, maybe the rest of the door was made of metal, too. The lighting was low, making it seem as if it were wood under the dark red paint. A few seconds later, the door slid open with a noisy screech and they were bid entry. The general led them inside and the soldiers at their back stopped before reaching the door's threshold, like they were forbidden to even enter.

As soon as Hiccup and Astrid were inside, the door was slammed shut behind them from the outside. Astrid immediately looked around the room. Thin windows lined the perimeter of the room near the ceiling, allowing one to look down, and the floor was made of the same metal as the walls. A huge rug made of dragon skin covered the floor beneath a large hexagonal table in the center of the room, where a collection of maps and similar-looking parchments had been splayed across the top. A fire pit was nearby, a long metal poker buried inside it and protruding from the flickering flames.

This was a war room, she realized. As she looked up from the table, she saw that they were not alone in the chamber. There was the general from before, as well as a couple of others. One was a man wearing resplendent armor the likes of which Astrid had never seen. His skin was somewhere in between fair and dark, with a splash of color that Astrid was unfamiliar with. He must've been from far away. Extending above his back and shoulders were the hilts of two enormous swords, their pommels bearing intricate designs.

Across the room from the man was, surprisingly, a woman. She was shorter than the rest of them, even the man with olive skin, and her armor was equally as curious as the man with the swords. Her forearms were clasped in leather bracers studded with gold, and the armor covering her body was made of segmented links of metal. A sheathed sword sat at her hip. Her helmet covered her entire head except for her face, with an odd little piece sticking out from the helm to cover her nose. Her image seemed vaguely familiar to Astrid, like something she had seen out of Berk's history books. The armor was reminiscent of a people far from the archipelago, what were they called? Angles, maybe? Saxons? She'd thought they were merely a myth, or a people that had vanished off the edge of the world. Apparently not, it seemed.

Still, none of these new faces were the most threatening in the room. There was one more figure, a hulking shape standing with its back to them and peering out the small windows. Long, curled black hair fell in droves down the figure's head, and a cloak of dragon skin hung from his armor to fall around the man's side.

Astrid knew who he was before the general even spoke.

"My lord…?" the olive-skinned general started, leaving the question hanging. Slowly, the massive figure turned, casting the thin general a shady glance before turning completely around to face the newcomers.

What Astrid had been able to see through the spyglass did not do this man justice. His head was huge and seemed to be tightly pulled against his skull, giving his face an odd but intimidating look. His thick black hair was actually styled into a fountain of dreadlocks, and Astrid couldn't actually tell at first glance where his hair ended, and his beard began. It all looked the same. His skin was a dark, ashen color, and his features were marred by grievous, faded scars. His visible arm was enormous, the only thing bigger than it being the wide, studded bracer around his wrist and forearm. Clasped in his grip was a well-kept bullhook, sharp and made of a dark blend of metal. He looked like he'd been brought up seeing hard times, harder than even the hardest there ever were on Berk, but like his parents had been similarly huge.

Looking at him, Astrid couldn't even doubt that this man was every bit the monster that Stoick had claimed he was. His eyes were narrow, possessing a green hue that was so utterly unlike Hiccup's. Where her husband's eyes were so full of light and knowledge and compassion, Drago Bludvist's eyes were cold and evil, their radiance culled by all the blood he'd surely shed in his life. They mimicked his skin, ashen and void of life.

"These are the assassins?" the enormous man growled, and gods, even his _voice_ sent dread pooling in Astrid's gut. It was so low and coarse, like speaking was supposed to hurt him, but it carried with this unusual force and she couldn't help but tense up. Her skin crawled, goosebumps forming on her arms as the temperature in the room seemed to drop. Maybe Drago was the Jötunn she was looking for earlier.

"We're not assassins," Hiccup blurted out, his brow creased with some unreadable emotion. Maybe panic. "We just want to talk."

The woman general—the Angle?—answered with a short, derisive laugh. "And the woman rode down on that Nadder's back, axe in the air, to talk, is that it?"

Hiccup nodded feverishly, "Yes! We just wanted to see Drago."

"Well, now you are," the olive-skinned general said, gesturing to the enormous man. Hiccup stammered a moment, eyes shifting rapidly between the short man and Drago Bludvist. He flicked his tongue to wet his lips in preparation like he was about to deliver a great speech.

"We heard about your dragon army," Hiccup said, staring at Drago. The cold-blooded killer of a man stared Hiccup down, unflinching. "I came to change your mind."

That seemed to affect Drago, however little. The massive man squinted, tilting his head slightly at Hiccup. Taking it as encouragement to continue, Hiccup added, though he held his manacled hands up defensively. "Please, we don't need to go to war. Whatever you're doing here, it needs to stop. Put an end to trapping dragons. Dragons shouldn't be held against their will and made to fight. They're gentle creatures."

"Gentle creatures?" drawled the man with the twin swords. He exchanged a glance with the other two generals and chuckled mirthfully, "You must be joking."

"I'm not. I can show you, all of you. I just want to prevent senseless fighting between our people and yours. It will only end in death and destruction."

"That is the idea," the woman snarled. She turned to glare at the slim general and Drago, "Why are we indulging this, Krogan? They tried to assassinate Drago, and they should die for it!"

"Well, at least one of them did. I'm not entirely convinced that this… _fishbone_ is capable of murdering anyone," the olive-skinned general, Krogan, quipped. He flashed a sly, scornful smile.

"No, we didn't. It was a misunderstanding. We just want peace, that's all we're after," Hiccup protested. Drago didn't respond, turning his head in Krogan's direction.

"Bring in the trapper," he snapped, and Krogan stepped away from the table and walked behind Hiccup and Astrid to the door. Raising a lean, armored forearm, he struck his knuckles on the door and then forced it open, snapping some indistinct orders into the corridor. A moment later, someone was shoved inside. Astrid cocked her head to the side and spotted Eret. The trapper ran a hand through his neat, dark hair, looking incredibly nervous. His hands were unbound, and she envied him.

"Drago!" Eret declared with an unnecessary amount of bravado, "Always good to see you, my friend." His hands twitched at his sides, like he was fighting the urge to fidget, and he forced a smile.

Krogan spoke up, diverting the attention away from Hiccup and Eret. He raised his arms, having claimed two weapons from the guards outside. "They were armed with these, my lord," he said, offering the weapons to Drago. Drago raised a scarred eyebrow and grabbed the axe and dormant sword, setting them on the table. Inferno particularly interested him, for it appeared as a useless hilt at first glance.

Drago grabbed Inferno and raised it to his eyes, inspecting it. He took a glance down the hole where the blade was stored and, understanding, tilted the hilt away from him and found the release button. In a flash, Inferno's blade extended from within the hilt, growing to its full length. Monstrous Nightmare saliva coated the blade and instantly ignited, lighting up the war room like a powerful torch.

Drago and the generals, needless to say, were impressed. "Intriguing engineering…" Drago drawled. He retracted the blade and set it back on the table, eyes turning to Astrid's battle axe next. He placed his meaty hands on the handle and lifted it, and Astrid bared her teeth as she bristled violently.

"Let go of that," she snarled. Hiccup turned to look at her and discreetly gestured for her to keep her cool, but she merely threw her fiery glare at him as well.

Drago cast her an amused smirk (so, he was capable of emotion) and returned his eyes to the weapon, examining it for only a few seconds. "Nothing special," he decided, and he haphazardly tossed the axe back on the table with an ear-rending screech. Astrid seethed even more. The axe had been one of Hiccup's wedding gifts, more important to her than she could even put to words. To call it _nothing special _was about as personally insulting towards her as one could be.

Eret looked at them and then back at Drago, and his expression lifted with a proud smirk. "I think I recognize this lot. They attacked my fort a week ago."

Astrid flinched, and her features twisted into a disgusted scowl. "Are you kidding me?" she hissed. He was throwing them to the wolves—the _snake. _Eret purposefully ignored her.

"They attempted to assassinate Drago," the Angle woman repeated, her hands clenched into fists. Clearly, Astrid had offended the woman greatly. She kept groaning about the same thing and it was getting on her nerves. Astrid almost wanted to blurt out that yes, she _had _been trying to kill Drago, just to stick it to the woman. But she was too smart to condemn herself right now.

Eret's features flickered with surprise. He looked back at Hiccup and Astrid, then back at Drago, and then puffed out his chest. "Well, I'm happy to see that they failed."

"Are they with the Dragon Rider?" the general in extravagant armor asked.

"I thought so when they first landed, but he said otherwise," Eret answered, gesturing to Hiccup.

"We don't know anything about a dragon rider fighting off trappers," Hiccup insisted, totally corroborating Eret's story like an idiot. "Again, we're just here to secure peace for our people." Drago looked up at the first statement, and in a few swift moves he wrapped his arm in his cloak and began walking around the table, stepping past his generals and growing closer.

Eret immediately grew on edge as Drago came closer, and he opted to expand on what Hiccup had said, maybe twist his words into his favor. "Y-yeah, it turns out, there's a whole bunch of them out there! Who knew?"

Drago unexpectedly fumed, and suddenly he thrusted his huge hand at Eret and grabbed him by the neck. Eret gagged at the sudden force and Drago lifted him a few inches off the ground so that the trapper met his smoldering eyeline. The conqueror's voice came out of his throat in a guttural growl, giving Astrid a fresh set of goosebumps.

"How many?"

Astrid and Hiccup both exchanged a look. _Drago didn't know about Berk._

"Hundreds! A whole island-full!" Astrid interjected, and Drago's murderous glare turned on her. Eret turned his head as best he could in Astrid's direction, and he tried to shake his head in warning. Astrid, though, raised her chin proudly, thinking she had a leg up on their captor.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Eret tried to persuade the man holding him in a slowly-tightening chokehold, "My men have been watching them since we first heard. They won't know where you're hiding, I promise you that." Drago's turned his violent eyes on the trapper, black pupils narrowing almost to slits.

"Oh, yes they will," Astrid countered. She took a few steps forward, and the Angle woman and heavily armed man reached for their weapons out of caution. "They know we're missing, and they have tracking dragons."

Drago dropped Eret to the ground, glaring at Astrid now. From the floor, Eret tried to signal for Astrid to stop talking, but she deliberately ignored him, throwing his earlier disrespect right back in his face. Eret then gestured at Hiccup, begging for him to try and stop her, but Hiccup was rooted in place. This was spiraling out of his already limited control.

"They know where we're headed, and if we don't come back, Berk's army will be here by daybreak, and Stoick the Vast will be the one leading them."

Drago's eyes widened, though Astrid couldn't say what the cause was. Maybe he remembered Stoick from the gathering he'd slaughtered years ago and had thought him dead. Or maybe her threats were simply working. Possibly both.

Regardless, she figured might as well talk up her husband for when they got out of here, too. They'd blow these ships to bits when they did, and their captors didn't need to know who Hiccup was, specifically. Already Astrid could imagine the looks on their faces as Hiccup burst through the sky and blew the fleet to splinters, Toothless blasting bolts of plasma left and right.

"And just wait until you see his son—the heir to the throne, and," Astrid took great pleasure in her next line, "the greatest dragon master that this world has ever seen!" That wasn't a lie.

"_Dragon master?" _Drago snarled, furious. "I _alone _control the dragons!"

"Guess again," Astrid smirked, "So, _Drago, _unless you let us go right now, Stoick and his son will blast through here on their dragons, and blow your entire fleet to _splinters."_

Drago fumed, and his glare turned to Eret on the ground. He snatched Eret up again, cutting off the trapper's yelp as he squeezed his throat once more, and he very nearly touched his nose to Eret's as he vented, breath hot and furious. "First, it was just _one _dragon rider…" Drago snarled, "And now, all of _Berk?"_

"They're not a problem, I swear it—" Eret wheezed, clawing at Drago's hand around his throat.

Drago ignored his claim with a garroted snarl, seeing through Eret with ease. "They arrived as soon as you did. _You _led them to _me_." He threw Eret to the floor and snapped an order to his generals, "Grab him!" Krogan grabbed Drago's bullhook as the towering man walked back around the table and handed it off, sights set on the fire pit near the corner of the room. Eret was pressed against the ground by the Angle woman, her foot stamping his face to hold him down. Krogan stepped over Eret and lowered the bullhook to the trapper's fur vest, hooking the curved part of the weapon around the collar. He gently tugged it back, exposing the toned skin of his left chest.

"What are you doing to him?" Hiccup protested, surging forward. The muscular general with the swords grabbed him by the back of his own collar, holding him steady. With his other hand, he reached out and hooked his fingers around Astrid's chains, jerking her back to stand next to Hiccup.

"Consider yourselves lucky," the man whispered, and said nothing else.

A sudden ringing of metal came from the other side of the room, beckoning Hiccup and Astrid to look over. Drago padded back over wielding the poker from the fire pit in his hand; only, its shape was totally different. The metal rod ended in a wide, flat headpiece of steel shaped into the insignia from the door. The piece was almost white-hot, glowing a vicious shade of bright orange.

It wasn't a poker at all. It was a _brand._

"Oh, my gods," Astrid murmured, aghast. She looked at Hiccup, eyes flashing and her smooth forehead creasing in terror, "Hiccup, he's going to—" Hiccup's face was equally frozen, a pall of repulsion as Drago walked around to Eret's front, holding the searing metal piece up so that its glow cast his face in a ghostly glare. Eret's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the rod.

"W-w-w-wait, Drago, we can work this out," Eret stammered, desperate, "I'll hunt the riders down myself, I'll bring twice as many dragons next time, no, _thrice_ as many!"

The generals continued to hold him down, the bullhook in Krogan's hand keeping Eret's chest exposed. Drago remained standing over Eret, his unflinching glare seeping its venom into the normally so self-assured trapper.

"I warned you once, and yet you failed me again," Drago's voice escaped his throat in a murderous rumble, the words rolling off his tongue as a paralyzing threat. Without another word, the conqueror lowered the brand, smoke cascading off of the steel but doing nothing to cool it off. Eret struggled in the grip of the two generals, trying to at least turn his exposed chest away from the shimmering steel approaching his body. But the generals held him tight, refusing to let him budge.

The sizzling came first, a fraction of a second before the screaming. Hiccup flinched away, shutting his eyes tight and turning his head. Astrid did the same, her stomach doing flips in her gut. The screaming continued to echo off of the walls of the chamber, accompanied by the bloodcurdling sizzling of flesh. The noise filled her ears and rattled around the dome of her skull, a never-ending howl of suffering. Before this moment, Astrid couldn't have imagined that such a sound could ever come from someone like Eret. Suddenly, she was overwhelmed with pity for the man, when she had just been seeing red at the idea of him.

Eret's screams died several seconds later, weakening into a series of pained moans, rapidly sucking in breaths in a feeble attempt to dull the pain. His skin continued to bubble even as the brand was pulled away, stinging viciously upon contact with the significantly-colder air. Astrid tentatively opened her eyes and turned her head to look at the scene. The generals' hold on Eret's body went slack, but the trapper didn't move beyond twitching on the ground. He looked beyond pathetic, sweating profusely on the ground and wincing repeatedly as the grievous burn across his chest festered.

"You belong to me," Drago snarled, _"Never _forget that." The conqueror stalked away from Eret, wrapping himself in his cloak and carrying the still-searing brand back to the fire pit. He roughly jammed the brand back into the flames, lodging it in between a nest of rocks that fed the blaze. Krogan followed, stopping halfway and partially bowing as he handed the bullhook back to Drago.

"What should we do with the other two?" Krogan asked.

"Kill them," the Angle woman advised, her thirst for Astrid and Hiccup's blood starting to become unsettling. Astrid wondered what string of bad luck had brought this woman into Drago's ranks. Or maybe this life _was _her choice. If so… that was unfortunate.

"I disagree, Griselda," the general in the extravagant armor argued. Finally, they were using names. "They're from Berk. They could be of value—we can use them as leverage when we attack the island."

"You want to use their assassins for ransom, Chaghatai?" hissed the Angle woman, _Griselda. _She sneered, hot air escaping from her nose.

The man, Chaghatai, shook his head, "I don't know what we can use them for. Perhaps Berk's people will surrender in exchange for their lives. Vikings place great importance on their families. All I am certain of is that they are no use to us if they're dead."

"I find myself agreeing with Chaghatai," Krogan interjected, "Hold them prisoner until we reach Berk. We can decide their fate then."

Drago nodded slightly, convinced. "Take them away." Chaghatai nodded and placed a hand on Hiccup and Astrid's shoulders. "The trapper too," Drago added, and Griselda nodded before jerking Eret to his feet. The man winced, biting back a tormented cry, the corners of his new brand peeking out of the confines of his fur vest and grinding against the material. Griselda locked his wrists in manacles similar to Hiccup and Astrid.

"And kill his crew," Drago said as Eret was being led away. Eret stiffened and snapped his head around, mouth agape. "Let them suffer the consequences of their captain's betrayal."

Eret stammered out a response, "Wait, Drago—t-they're innocent. I'll take the blame for letting outsiders get to you, I will, but please don't harm my crew. They did nothing wrong."

Drago gave the trapper a hard scowl, vicious and predatory. "They followed you, did they not?" he rumbled, and with a tilt of his head he ordered for the prisoners to be led away. Hiccup, Astrid, and Eret were marched out of the room, but Eret wasn't done protesting.

"Drago, you can't do this! Please!" he shouted, among other things, but it was of no use. His time having the ear of Drago Bludvist was over.

"Cease all preparations and set a course for Berk," Drago said to Krogan, his low voice reaching Astrid's ears as they were led out of the room, "We'll conquer the people and take their dragons, and then we will return our focus to the Dragon Rider."

"And if their army does attack us first, as the girl claimed they would?" Krogan asked.

"Let them try. They will fall."

The door to the chamber was shut behind them, and a group of lowly soldiers took over the task of escorting them to the hold below decks. Astrid watched her husband carefully and with monumental regret; as they went through dark corridor after dark corridor, Hiccup trembled, no doubt silently scorning himself for his foolishness.

But it was her who was the fool, she told herself. If Stoick could see her now, she knew he'd be ashamed. She'd challenged the Chief at every turn and helped Hiccup escape, all to support his wish to meet Drago, even though she'd later intended to kill the man. They'd met Drago like they wanted, more or less, and found he wasn't a man that could be talked to. He was a madman, just like Stoick had warned them, and Astrid had helped Hiccup defy him in pursuit of their own ideals and visions of the world.

And now, because of them, Berk was in all the more danger. Based on what had been said in front of Astrid, Drago and his generals hadn't been aware of Berk, or at least, they were unaware that they had dragons on their side. Now that the secret was out, Drago was officially coming for them.

In the blink of an eye, everything Astrid had meant to prevent was suddenly coming to pass.

* * *

The cell door swung open and Astrid was yanked forward, haphazardly thrown into the small space. As Astrid caught herself on the nearby wall, she heard the metal gate slam shut, locking into place with the turn of a key. _Déjà vu, _she muttered in her head. Beside her, Hiccup suffered the same fate, and across the narrow hallway, she heard Eret stumble inside his own cell, loops of bandages circling his entire torso to cover up the grievous burn marring his chest. He'd received the bare minimum of medical attention on the way.

The guards locked up Eret's cell and walked toward the exit. It was only two men, each one burly and sleazy-looking. One of them was fair-skinned and had a thick brown stubble and a scar over his left eye, while the other was darker and sported black hair and a full beard. Astrid looked up from the floor and found them harassing her with lustful looks, and the fair-skinned one even dared to lick his lips at her. She was like a piece of meat to them. She bared her teeth, daring them to try anything, and the two guards had the audacity to chuckle before sinisterly stalking away.

Astrid involuntarily turned to her right to look at her husband, but she froze in her tracks when she was met with his silent, infuriated glare, practically burning through the metal bars that separated them.

"You were going to _kill him!?" _Hiccup shouted, his voice echoing off of the walls of the dungeon.

"Hiccup, please, not now…" Astrid grimaced.

"Oh, on the contrary, we're talking about this now—when exactly were you going to let me in on your _assassination plot?"_

Astrid's lips curled into a snarl, as if that would throw him off, "Ideally, after it was already done."

Hiccup threw his hands in the air in disbelief, turning on his heel and muttering something unintelligible. In the back of her mind, Astrid was sure she was glad to not hear whatever he'd said. It would probably kickstart a whole new shouting match.

Hiccup turned to face her again, his face contorting with irritation and disbelief and a dash of betrayal. "So, you were just going to let me think we were going to go down there and talk to Drago, and the whole time you were planning to kill him?"

Astrid stomped her foot, feeling a bit like a petulant child after the fact. Quick to refute her husband, she spat out an answer. "No! The plan was to _scout Drago's camp, _and if I happened to get a good look at Drago, I'd go down there and put him down."

"Do you even realize how reckless that is?"

"Not as reckless as thinking you could actually speak to Drago and change his mind. Did you not even hear your father's story?" Astrid shouted back, "He murdered an entire gathering of chieftains because they wouldn't bow down to him. How could you possibly think you can reason with someone like that?"

"Because I've done it before—"

"No, _you haven't!" _Astrid roared, turning crimson with the boiling blood rushing through her, "Your father may be a difficult person sometimes, but he never killed people in cold blood! Don't even attempt to try and equate the two, just because your dad used to hate dragons. There was no way that you would ever be able to stop this war by reasoning with Drago."

"Then why did you even bring me along?" Hiccup snapped. Astrid scoffed and turned away, so Hiccup pressed, not allowing her to escape, "Don't do that. Why did you bring me along? Why did you go to the trouble of openly defying my father like that only to do what you did, when you _knew _I wouldn't approve?"

Astrid looked back at her husband, scowling as she laid out her thought process in front of his stubborn skull. "Because you're the best backup I could ever have. Think, our dragons are the fastest ones on Berk. If something went wrong, it would be easiest to escape, and we'd have the best chance of not being seen in the first place."

"And look how well that turned out."

"I had a clean shot at Drago!" Astrid shot back.

"Obviously, you didn't," Hiccup answered, averting his eyes away from her.

"Okay, yeah, I fucked up, Hiccup. Throw it back in my face, I deserve it. I fucked up. If I had just stayed up there instead of jumping the gun the second that I saw Drago, maybe I would've seen some of the sentries and not been shot down. But once you saw him too, I knew you were going to try and go down there yourself," Astrid said, "And after what we just saw I think I was at least a little justified in doing so. He's _insane, _Hiccup. He would've killed you if you tried to talk to him, and the only reason he didn't is because he wasn't the one who found us, and he happens to listen to his generals."

"You don't know that."

"I do, and so do you! Stop contradicting me just for the sake of being on the other side!" Astrid yelled again, face flushing red all over again, and not the good kind of red. "You have no idea how hard the last week has been for me, Hiccup. _No idea. _And I'm sorry that I deceived you and let you think I was on board with your plan, but I didn't know how else to do it. If I'd brought the twins or Snotlout or Fishlegs with me instead of you, it would've been a lot harder to get _anything_ done. You're the only one that I'd trust with my life in the balance, and if that makes you mad, then I don't know what to tell you."

She didn't realize that Hiccup had come close to the bars separating them until she was finished talking. His fingers curled around the steel grating, a saddened frown tugging on his lips. "C'mere," he muttered, and despite her angry mind telling her not to, she met him halfway at the bars. He did his best to interlock their fingers, casting a warm smile at her.

"I'm sorry for shouting. I'm sorry for getting you into this," Hiccup said.

Astrid shook her head, blood starting to cool and clearing her mind. "Blame me. You're half-right. I shouldn't have rushed in there like that. I should've just told you upfront what I was planning."

"I can see why you didn't," Hiccup admitted, "I wouldn't have been happy about it. I probably would've turned back and refused to help, even. All just to try and get you to turn back."

"It isn't your fault, Hiccup. We're here because of me."

Hiccup managed a small, wry smile, "How about we're here because both of us are a couple of stubborn Gronckles?" In spite of everything, Astrid matched his smile. At least he was here with her, and she wasn't alone. This was a wonderful part of their marriage. She was happy, obviously. So happy. But every married couple had their spats, their arguments. The fact that they could shout and scream and then so quickly put things aside… maybe when Hiccup had stabbed that sword all the way through the column at their wedding, the gods had blessed them with this quality.

"Can you forgive me?" Hiccup asked.

Astrid nodded warmly. "So long as you can forgive me."

"Always," Hiccup answered, and he squeezed what little of her fingers he was able to grab to get the point across.

"Oh, good, you two made up. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to make it not knowing. Really hanging on the edge of my seat here," the bitterness bled off of Eret's tongue, saturating the air with a fresh wave of tension. The trapper was staring at the back wall of his cell, his back turned to them and pressed up against the bars. He grimaced, lifting one hand to clutch his chest where he'd been branded. Drago's people had surprisingly been kind enough to bandage the burn. A piece of the gauze could be seen sticking out from the confines of Eret's fur vest, wrapping around to cover his torso.

Astrid sneered at the sound of the trapper's voice, turning her attention from her husband in the adjacent cell to the man across the hallway. "Oh, the snake speaks," she snarled back, "How interesting."

"Snake?" Eret repeated, cocking his head to glare at her from the corner of his left eye, "I promised not to sell you out when we reached the camp, I never agreed to try and save your skins if you got caught. Besides, you claimed your mission was only to scout, not to assassinate Drago. If you think about it, you went back on the terms of the deal first."

Hiccup winced, "We may have… not been on the same page back there."

"I gathered that," Eret snapped, "Sounds like a lovely marriage you have there."

At that comment, Astrid's eyes narrowed. "Watch your tongue, Eretson. I could've killed you back on that island."

"But you didn't. Face it, you needed me. And not only did you carelessly manage to get caught, you roped my crew and I in with you. Now they're all _dead."_

"Don't blame us because Drago didn't buy your dragon-dung excuses," Astrid fired back. Eret ignored her, raising a hand again to massage the burn on his chest. The trapper winced and dipped his head down at the terrible wound, the two narrow bangs of black hair bobbing beside his head. Astrid exchanged a look with Hiccup, a sudden pool of guilt welling up in her gut. "Are you alright?"

Eret scoffed, "What do you care?"

"We might not like each other very much, but that doesn't mean we enjoyed watching you get hurt," Astrid replied. "It looked really painful."

"Oh, it was. You should try it sometime," Eret answered, rivaling even Hiccup's talent for sheer sarcasm.

"What can you tell us about Drago?" Hiccup asked.

Eret shrugged. "Not much. Hardly anyone really knows much about Drago, only that he was born far from here and grew up fighting dragons, just like the rest of us. Supposedly, he lost his entire family to them. That's all I know."

"How did you come to work for him?" Astrid asked next.

"What, so because we're all stuck together and completely miserable, you expect me to tell you everything?" Eret protested.

"Do you have anything better to do?" Astrid's eyes narrowed. Eret appeared to catch her glare from the corner of his eye, and the trapper snorted, a cynical chuckle slipping from his lips.

"I guess not," Eret muttered. "Dragon trapping takes you all over. Most folks that have dragon problems will pay good money for a little extra help. We take a few dragons off their hands, they give us coin, and then later plenty of other folks will pay even heftier sums to buy those dragons off of us. Whoever's paying the most money, well, that's where we go."

"That's barbaric," Astrid growled.

"It's profitable," Eret challenged, "and plenty of my clients have been Vikings. That miserable archipelago you call home used to be a decent spot to make a quick buck. Until it wasn't."

"We changed our minds when we saw the truth."

"Your truth, maybe. But not mine, and not the men you'll find on these ships," Eret shot back in warning. He delved back into his tale, "Anyway, the last couple of years, we'd find the most money in the east, with a decent trickle coming from the north. We generally take a few dragons up to the markets around there and sell them to the highest bidders," the admission made Hiccup and Astrid both growl in displeasure, but Eret didn't pay them any mind and continued sharing his story,

"Few years back, that Krogan fellow approached me and my crew in the Northern Markets. Said he worked for a man that would pay us more money than we'd ever seen, all we had to do was bring him a ship-full of dragons every month. It was an easy agreement."

"He was working for Drago," Hiccup deduced.

"He was," Eret confirmed, nodding somberly. "After a few batches, I thought we'd go back to servicing some other clients, but Drago wouldn't let me go so easily. He kept raising his price, and the money became too much to give up. I should've left when I'd had the chance—I knew I was never getting out about two years ago, when our ship was attacked by a dragon rider."

Hiccup perked up and exchanged a look with Astrid. He inched closer to the bars, listening to Eret intently.

"That's the second time you mentioned another dragon rider. Is this the same one?" Hiccup interrupted. Eret nodded. "Can you tell us anything else about that?"

Eret shrugged, as if to say _why not?_ "No one really knows what he looks like. He's tall, and he rides a Stormcutter. One of the biggest dragons I've ever seen… four huge wings, and some wildly powerful fire. I don't know how, but he has the aid of all dragons. That was the first time I saw him… he's harassed us in particular for around two years now, but I'll admit you're the only other ones we've seen ever since. That's why I thought you were in league with him when you found our fort. He'd just come through and freed every dragon we were keeping there."

"It makes sense… the only other riders we know of are a few more tribes close to Berk, but they keep to themselves and never fly out this far."

"I went to Drago and explained that the batch of dragons we'd captured for him had all been stolen, and I thought he'd cut me a break. I was wrong. He had me beaten bloody and promised to be far less understanding in the future."

"And now, here you are," Astrid said, quietly.

"And now, here I am…" Eret agreed. His features shifted all at once and he gave the two young adults a cross glare, like he'd forgotten somewhere in the middle of his tale to hate them and was only just now remembering the fact, "Thanks to you."

"We're sorry about what he did to you," Astrid admitted. She looked at Hiccup and he nodded in silent agreement, "You getting hurt wasn't part of our plan."

Eret didn't seem to appreciate the sympathy. "Guess it doesn't matter now what your plan was, though, does it? It still happened."

"Why didn't Drago just kill you? Why didn't he kill any of us, actually?" Hiccup asked him. "He doesn't seem like the type to spare prisoners." Hiccup gestured to the dungeon at large. They were the only ones occupying any of the cells, the rest of the dark jail eerily silent.

"He isn't. Chaghatai Khan vouched for keeping you alive, something I've never seen before. You should be wary of him if you ever see his face again. Drago doesn't just listen to anybody, and Chaghatai doesn't win battles just because he's strong," Eret said. "As for me, I'm alive because he knows how much I care about my crew. They're like my family, I've been with most of them since we were boys," Eret explained. He scowled, "he wants me to know that they're dead, wants to make me suffer. He may even kill me in a few days, I don't know. At this point, it might not be so bad to join my crew in death. I certainly don't expect I'll ever be back in Drago's good graces after this debacle."

"Then avenge them," Astrid urged. "You can help us. Drago's setting a course for Berk. The war he's been preparing for is about to start. Help us fight back against him and make certain that your crew didn't die for nothing."

Eret snorted, "I admire the optimism, girl, but in case you haven't noticed, we're stuck in here."

"We'll get out. I don't know how, but we will. It's just a matter of waiting, and when the right moment comes, we'll beat Drago."

Hiccup nodded in agreement, "You'll see. We've gotten out of worse before."

"Well, if that opportunity comes, I'll let you in on my decision then," Eret said, making it very clear through the lilt in his voice that he was only humoring them. He seemed quite confident that there was no escape from their present situation. The optimism that Astrid so often saw in Hiccup's eyes, a fire fed by his youth, wasn't present in Eret's eyes. He looked dull and weary, and weak.

The door to the jail swung open with a loud, shrill creak. Astrid snapped her head to the left to look down the dark hall and see who was coming, while Eret simply sat in place with his back pressed against the entrance, dejected. Footsteps echoed down the hall and a shape emerged from the depressing darkness, a tall and slim man with olive-toned skin. _Krogan._

The general flashed a wicked smile as he looked at Astrid and Hiccup. "Enjoying your accommodations?" he asked with a sinister drawl. "I hope you find them to your liking. Most of the people that have found themselves in here haven't lasted long enough to appreciate them. Fortunately for you, I think you'll be here longer than the average prisoner. Chaghatai Khan has convinced Drago to keep you alive. He believes that you two are important to Berk and might somehow be useful. I'm not so easily convinced, but I will admit that there are some… _advantages."_

Krogan uttered the last sentence while staring right at Astrid, his lips twisted in a lecherous grin. He took a single step up so that he was standing right in front of her, protected by the bars of the cell and eyeing her with lascivious eyes, making her skin scrawl. "I wonder…" the general murmured, "will you scream when you're being raped? Or will you bear the pain in silence, too stubborn to cry out for mercy? I'm not certain which one would please me more."

Astrid bared her teeth, a violent growl hissing its way out of her throat. She was about to fire back with a threat on his life or something similar, but Hiccup beat her to the punch.

"Stay away from her," he snapped. Krogan turned his head and his cruel eyes in Hiccup's direction, walking away from Astrid and up to him. Krogan studied him in silence, until his gaze fell to Hiccup's fingers, where he spotted the golden wedding band. The general afforded the briefest glance to Astrid's hands and, seeing the matching set on her own finger, smiled with a sickening kind of delight.

"Ah, the husband!" his voice was deep but scratchy, and his evil eyes twinkled with spite. "Even better. Fortunately for you both, Drago has ordered that you _not _be touched. If you do happen to possess some importance to Berk, he'd prefer that you be no worse for the wear when we reach that miserable island. But should worse come to worst and Berk be razed to the ground, well…" Krogan fixed his eyes on Astrid, grinning, "I'd say that all bets will be off."

Krogan turned around, looking down into Eret's cell. The trapper been totally silent since Krogan entered, still staring at the solid wall in the back of his cell. "As for you, Eretson, how are you feeling? Peachy, I hope?" Eret said nothing. "You were a fool to side with the dragon riders. Did you really think you'd be able to avoid suspicion when they were caught? I suppose I shouldn't expect much more from a dragon trapper."

Eret didn't dignify him with a response, stalwartly staring at the wall. That didn't seem to bother Krogan—Astrid could see that the man liked to hear himself talk.

"Drago hasn't decided what he's going to do with you, but I wouldn't get my hopes up. I expect you'll be alive for most of the journey to Berk, at the very least. Plenty of time to tear yourself apart over your mistakes."

Astrid saw Eret's head turn slowly, tilting up to glare in Krogan's general direction. "Did you only come to gloat, Krogan? Of all the disadvantages to working for Drago, the worst has always been listening to you constantly get yourself off by talking yourself up. It gets a little old, don't you think?"

Astrid had to admit; the comment made her smile. Krogan snorted, dismissing Eret. "Say what you will. One of us in a cell, and the other isn't." The general turned away from Eret's cell and started to walk down the dark hall again to the exit, but not before throwing one last comment at Hiccup and Astrid. "Enjoy your stay, you two. Berk thanks you for its impending subjugation. Guards!"

The door opened again, and four men hustled inside, each carrying spears in their hands. Astrid wondered why they hadn't left them with guards to begin with. The men that had thrown them into the cells in the first place hadn't stuck around. Maybe she could find some kind of hole in their rotations. They couldn't station the same group of men to them at all times.

"Feed the prisoners and clean their chamber pots once a day, and _do not _touch the Berkians," Krogan ordered.

"What about the trapper, sir?" one of the guards asked.

Krogan looked over his shoulder at Eret. "He's fair game. Just ensure that he does not die and be sure to change his bandages often. If we want his new markings to heal well, we don't want them getting infected." The guards nodded in understanding and Krogan moved to leave them to things. Once again, he stopped just before he could slip into the darkness, and craned his neck to peer down at Eret from the corridor.

"Oh, and Eret, I almost forgot. I thought you might want to know your crew, well… they didn't go easily. They screamed quite a bit, actually." Krogan wore an evil smile, and Eret's head snapped to the left as he stood up and glared at Krogan, eyes smoldering with hate.

"There he is," Krogan said, mockingly awestruck. He chuckled audibly, enjoying himself way too much. Eret remained dreadfully silent, probably out of not wanting to make an empty threat out of anger. Krogan grinned at Eret's reticence, all too aware he'd struck a nerve, and continued walking away, melding into the shadows of the dark hallway.

The door opened and slammed shut with another screech of steel, leaving Astrid, Hiccup, and Eret alone with the guards.

* * *

**I'm thinking about doing a sort of "director's cut" revision on _Bound _in celebration of 1 year since I posted it. It would be a sporadic project and nothing would change beyond some dialogue and details, but if I do anything to do it I'll mention it in a future update.**

**As for the chapter: i****n case anyone wants more information, the 3 generals are Krogan + 2 of the Warlords from The Hidden World, Griselda the Grievous and Chaghatai Khan. I cut out Ragnar the Rock and replaced him with Krogan because he was just too much of a goof for this story, and since RTTE never happened in this timeline, that frees Krogan up to be included. I've also come up with individual profiles for the 3 of them:**

**Krogan: You all know him. Unimposing stature, tan skin (I describe him as Mediterranean so as to cast a big enough net about his nationality). Much like in the Netflix series, he is cunning but overconfident; his head is even bigger from serving as one of Drago's top generals. I also imagine in this timeline, serving as he has at Drago's right hand, that Krogan kind of gets whatever he wants when it comes to women. It's pretty standard knowledge that large traveling armies rape and pillage places they conquer (for a recent example, I believe the Soviet Union's Red Army is estimated to have raped up to 2 million German women upon invading Berlin in 1945. Pretty horrible stuff.), so I don't think it's a stretch to display him as interested in Astrid, though not in a consensual way. That being said, I've also done that to lay a little groundwork for a more personal conflict between Astrid and Krogan.**

**Griselda: A very talented warrior who is impatient and quick to jump to violence. She is wholeheartedly devoted to Drago due to him freeing her from slavery years ago. There are different ideas as to where she is actually from-in the movie, her armor always struck me as Saxon-inspired, but I've also heard it said that she is ethnically Slavic. I don't have a hard opinion on it but based on her armor I may occasionally refer to her as Angle/Saxon.**

**Chaghatai Khan: a tall and formidable warrior from far to the east (as his name implies, possibly Mongolia). He crossed paths with Drago sometime ago and later came to follow him. Though he enjoys combat, he is a tactician at heart and makes decisions based on those lines. This is why he protected Hiccup and Astrid in this chapter (also, plot armor. Because c'mon), because from what he knows about Vikings, he feels it is a better course of action to keep them alive than execute them. Also, they stand to learn a lot about Berk from keeping them prisoner, since prior to these events, they had no idea that Berk was an island of dragon riders (much less the rest of the archipelago, which will be visited later).**

**So, that's all from me this week. See you again on Friday the 14th with Chapter 8. Thanks so much for reading this latest chapter.**

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Since clearly the edited note at the top of this page is not being read, I'm putting this one here as an additional notice. Do not send me reviews or messages calling for an update. The next chapter will go up when I'm good and ready and not a minute sooner. I get emails when a review is posted, and that gets me excited, only to open and see someone asking for an update and nothing more. You know who you are. If you have feedback, positive OR negative, please leave a review. I would rather read a piece trashing my work than read the word "Update!" multiple times in the span of a few days. All that makes me want to do is, ironically, not update. I have things to do in my real life and am currently behind the curve. An extra week is going to kill exactly zero people.**

**So I'm going to reiterate: DO NOT SEND ME REVIEWS REQUESTING AN UPDATE.**


	8. Stormfall

**Hello again, all. Here's the next chapter, as promised. Thanks to everyone who waited patiently while I took a week off, and I hope this one is worth the wait.**

**Fun little anecdote (not), I was going to call this chapter "Stormfront", but after googling to see if that was an actual word because I'm picky, I learned that Stormfront is the name of a white nationalist website. So thank you racists for ruining that.**

**Also, Bound turns 1 year old on Monday. Hard to believe if you ask me. Thanks so much to everyone that supported that story and is supporting this one. I hope you'll continue to do so.**

**Anyway, on with the chapter.**

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_**8\. Stormfall**_

The uproar of laughter sliced through the dark jail, the cacophonous racket echoing nonstop off of the surrounding walls so much that it grated on her ears. A blazing candle seated on a table offered a thin vestige of light into Astrid's cell, allowing her to see the silhouettes of three guards down the corridor. Outside, there was a constant din of activity, the sounds of an army mobilizing for war spilling in between the barred windows. The three men assigned to guard them were doing anything but, drinking and gambling at their little table. All things considered; Astrid was fine with it. It certainly wasn't how _she _would guard a few prisoners, but she appreciated the reprieve from the lascivious looks she seemed to be getting from every man that had seen her on this accursed ship.

"Do you see a way out of here?" Astrid asked Hiccup. He was standing against the bars of his cell, silent and morose and crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't," Hiccup lamented.

"Don't bother. There's no getting out of here," Eret said. He was sitting against the back wall of his cell, looking broken. "No one escapes Drago Bludvist once he has them. Even if he deigns to let them live for a little while."

Astrid scoffed in disbelief, "There's always a way out."

"Maybe on your little island, sure. But not here," Eret scowled at her, "You two are a long way from home."

"Not for long. They're heading for Berk," Astrid countered.

"And then what do you expect to happen? Do you really think your people are going to be able to push Drago back? Do you know how many men are in this army? Do you know how many _dragons _are in this army?"

"We've defeated worse before."

There was a loud _clang _from down the hall that shut them all up. Astrid was the closest to the noise, so she curled her fingers around the bars of her cell to look as a torch flickered to life down the corridor, growing closer and illuminating two shapes; the first a guard walking down the hallway, and the second a familiar figure from the war room.

Astrid took in the image of the woman general now that she was safely behind a wall of bars. She could afford to pay more attention to detail now. The name rang in her ears, a memory rushing forth. _Griselda._ The woman's features were twisted with disgust, and one of the guards stood near her with the torch held aloft to lift the corridor. The man looked like he was sweating. Astrid guessed that they'd scrambled to hide their contraband and made it look as if they'd been hard at work guarding them. If Griselda had any suspicions, she didn't show them.

Griselda stopped in front of Astrid's cell and scrutinized her. She was holding a regal-looking spear in her right hand made of a brittle-looking metal. An impressive piece, but impractical for battle. "Curious," the woman muttered, "I have never seen Vikings so small."

Astrid scoffed, brushing off the insult. This woman didn't know half of what she was capable of, and she could easily see the advantage in that. "And who exactly are you?"

"Griselda the Grievous," replied the general, "and Drago's right hand."

"Right hand? I wouldn't say that, considering we're still alive. He didn't seem to listen to you back there," Astrid spat back, committed to her antagonism. She was probably risking herself here, but she couldn't find it in herself to care.

Griselda's eyes lit up with an angry fire and she approached Astrid's cell, glaring between the bars at the younger woman. "Watch it, Viking. Your time will come soon enough. Drago's been all around the world, conquered countless peoples. Yours will be no different. Berk's time is all but up."

"You're wrong. You've never seen anything like the Vikings of Berk," Astrid countered.

"A village of a few hundred, at best," Griselda said. Astrid flinched, and her moment of surprise made Griselda grin. "That's right. I've seen Berk. I don't recall them being dragon lovers, but I remember the island. Your people don't stand a chance. And once they're conquered, you won't either."

Eret grumbled in his cell, raking his hand down his face in a display of sheer annoyance. "What do you want from us, Griselda?"

The woman turned her head to glare down at the trapper. "Don't flatter yourself, filth. I'm merely satisfying my curiosity."

"Sizing us up," Astrid corrected. Griselda flashed a haughty smirk at her.

"If that makes you feel better," the general replied. Astrid felt a small surge of satisfaction. Griselda was severely underestimating them still. "I also thought you should know your dragons are doing well, for the time being. That Nadder is particularly spirited."

Astrid's scowl morphed into a full-on snarl. "Don't you dare touch my dragon," she growled, vicious. Griselda had the gall to smirk again.

"I won't. It is not my place." Griselda turned her head and narrowed her eyes at Hiccup, padding over to the door of his cell and glaring at him. "But I must say, I'm impressed that you possess a Night Fury for a companion. How did _you," _her eyes flicked up and down Hiccup's narrow body, "come to tame the rarest dragon of them all? Even I have only ever heard them, much less seen them."

Hiccup only deigned to match her stare, his green eyes seemingly saying a thousand words. When he didn't speak, Griselda asked another question.

"We've seen his prosthetic tail. Remarkable engineering. It must be quite difficult to fly him." Astrid slowly raised an eyebrow. They didn't know how to fly Toothless. If he couldn't fly, he likely wouldn't be useful for their ends.

Hiccup still didn't speak, and Griselda scoffed upon recognizing that she would get nothing out of him.

"Your silence is of little consequence. We don't truly need to know _how _you broke such a beast into a pet. All that matters is that your dragons belong to Drago now. They will bring us great success in the wars to come."

Hiccup jerked forward at that, rattling the bars with his hands as he fastened his fingers around them and leaned in Griselda's direction. "Toothless and Stormfly will never be yours," he growled defensively, angry spittle on the tip of his tongue. Griselda let a small smile slip, and Astrid silently cursed her husband for showing that sliver of emotion. He'd been doing so well, better than her, even.

"They'll break," Griselda asserted, "and so will you."

Without another word, Griselda stalked away into the darkness, the sound of a heavy door opening and closing following her footsteps. The guards relaxed with a sigh once she was gone and promptly returned to the table, the clinking of bottles ringing through the jail as they returned to drinking. Astrid couldn't be sure how they'd managed to hide their stash, but she was thankful for their negligence. If they had any hope of escaping, a couple of careless guards would only help them.

"She's dangerous," Astrid muttered about Griselda.

"Yeah, I gathered that," Hiccup answered. He looked across the narrow corridor at Eret. "Will they hurt him?"

"The dragon?" Eret asked for clarification. Hiccup nodded. "Drago isn't really in the business of killing dragons, even those who try to resist him. If he'll spare a headstrong Gronckle, he won't lay a finger on a Night Fury. Too much potential. Too much firepower."

Hiccup answered with a few errant, successive nods, breathing out a long sigh of relief. Astrid looked back down the hall that Griselda had come through. "I'd wager none of these _generals_ like each other very much."

"You'd win that bet," Eret muttered. Hiccup and Astrid looked at him, staring until the trapper noticed. Eret glanced up to see them watching and scoffed, averting his eyes as he continued. "All three of them have been contending for Drago's ear for at least as long as I've been around. Sometimes he listens to one of them, and sometimes he listens to another. If he notices their competition, he doesn't say anything."

"He plays them off of one another," Astrid said.

"More or less. Couldn't tell you if he enjoys it, considering I've never seen the man so much as smile. Truthfully I don't think he cares, so long as they do their jobs when they aren't squabbling."

Astrid snorted. "Considering how much they talk, I'm surprised they do their jobs at all."

"Oh, Krogan and Griselda are the king and queen of big talk," Eret concurred, "But Drago didn't pick them for their looks, and he tolerates their mouths. All of his generals are excellent fighters, some of the best I've ever seen."

"Well, you've never seen Astrid," Hiccup commented. Astrid peered at him through the corner of her eye and smiled, flattered in spite of everything. She curled her fingers through a few locks of her blonde hair and tucked the strands behind her ear before returning her attention to Eret.

"Do you know anything else about them?"

"Griselda and Krogan are from the mainland. Griselda's a southerner like me. Krogan hails from somewhere further down, on the coast of a sea in the middle of the world, I think. Chaghatai is a bit of an oddball. He's from out east. Like, _way _out east," Eret explained.

"He's been all over the world. Imagine what his maps are like," Hiccup wondered.

"Bigger things to worry about, babe," Astrid interjected, "What about their troop counts?"

Eret shrugged, "That's the extent of my knowledge, girl. I'm not a spy. I'm just a dragon trapper looking to make enough coin to keep food in my belly and my ship in good condition."

Bitter, Astrid gritted her teeth. "Looks like you're failing to do either of those."

Eret's resulting glare was callous, eyes glazing over with an unfeeling ice. "Don't ignore your role in this. Without your meddling, none of us would even be here. And some people out there would still be alive." The coldness in his expression waned, and when he spoke next, he was despondent, voice quaking with a chafing resignation. "Just do yourself a favor and stop looking for a way out of this. There isn't one."

Astrid shook her head, confident. "You're wrong. We just have to bide our time. There's always a way out, we just don't know what it is yet."

Eret sighed, but didn't bother to waste his breath any further.

* * *

The wind howled in Stoick's ears. Skullcrusher rumbled beneath him, scaled body pulsing with heat as he raced through the night. Gobber and Grump flew behind them, doing their best to keep up as Skullcrusher doggedly tracked Hiccup's scent.

They'd been heading north for a while. It was morning now, though the sky was overcast, a pall of gray blocking the sunlight and burdening the pair of Vikings with a freezing wind. A storm appeared to be brewing far to the north and east. At first, Skullcrusher's nose had carried them to the east, curving northward and passing over several frozen islets. For a while now, it had been nothing but the freezing sea beneath their feet.

Frost had begun to form on Stoick's beard thanks to the cold, but he continued to push stubbornly forward. He wasn't saying much, either, clinging to the hope that he'd find Hiccup. His own fear kept driving him forward, growing with each passing minute of finding nothing. Just how far could this damned ocean go? At this rate, they'd reach the edge of the world before they caught up with Hiccup and Astrid.

Even more infuriating, though, was how Gobber continued to seem unconcerned with how much danger Hiccup and Astrid were in.

"I don't like this," Stoick murmured as Grump flew up next to Skullcrusher, carrying Gobber on his back. "Boar-headed and stubborn, the both of them."

"She takes after him, and he gets it from you," Gobber answered.

"_He_ gets it from his _mother. _She could never stay put either," Stoick groused. He clenched his fists tight, until his knuckles turned white as snow. "I had things under control, I was protecting both of them. Why did Astrid have to go and muck that up?"

"She's just twenty. And they both think that they know better… It runs in the family! Boy, when I think about how stubborn and senseless _you _were back then…" Gobber said, chuckling to himself at the last bit.

"Still, Gobber. We've been flying this direction for hours, and not only do they have faster dragons, they got a head start on us," Stoick said, "What if they've already found Drago? What if he's hurt them, or worse?"

"Maybe they've turned back by now," Gobber suggested. He pointed his hook at the distant storm clouds, "There is a storm comin', after all. That Nadder's a bold one, but even she would'nea risk flying through a storm with Astrid on her back. _Extra _protective."

Stoick shook his head, declining the notion. "Skullcrusher would've noticed."

"Stoick, no matter what happens, those dragons're going to protect those two. Especially ol' Toothless," Gobber said, "So, stop yer worrying."

Stoick sighed, curling his bottom lip inward and feeling the iced-over bits of his mustache brush his skin. "You know that I can't do that, Gobber."

"Aye," Gobber relented, sagging a little further into his seat and shrugging his shoulders in defeat, "I know."

Nearly another hour passed them by in utter silence, the howling wind the only sound as they braved through the icy gusts and flew even closer to the storm. As they finally drew close to the onset of the storm, Skullcrusher unexpectedly snarled, wings unfolding to catch the wind and brake. Stoick's hands clenched around the dragon's horns to hold on as he was jerked forward by the Rumblehorn's sudden slowdown. Grump likewise slowed, though Gobber was able to hold on much more easily thanks to Skullcrusher's advance warning.

"What's happ'nin'?" Gobber spluttered, startled by the sudden stoppage, "Grump, whaddya see?"

All of the color drained from Stoick's face as he stared ahead, his features pale and stark as ice. His piercing green eyes pointed across the sea, and he could hear Gobber shuffling in his saddle as he too looked at what had stopped Skullcrusher so suddenly.

There were dozens of them, all sailing southwest in a massive cluster. The fleet was emerging from a wall of mist rolling across the water, ship after ship inching out of hiding and forging ahead. The vessels were larger than any Stoick had ever seen, wide-bellied and reinforced with metal in many places. At the head of the pack was an enormous flagship, a colossal white sail on its main mast bearing an insignia that he couldn't quite see thanks to the distance.

Skullcrusher bared his teeth in a menacing growl, a gesture that made Stoick turn his head to Gobber. Panic was pounding through his veins and he had no doubt that it showed on his face, because the blacksmith was meeting his eyes with equal concern. Without a word, Stoick grabbed onto Skullcrusher's horns and spurred the dragon forward, his fear morphing into a tangible desperation that snaked up his spine and chilled him to the bone.

"Stoick, wait—" Gobber protested, and he sent Grump flapping forward to give chase. Stoick and Skullcrusher descended about halfway to the sea, slowing and allowing Gobber and Grump to catch up.

Skullcrusher was growling again when Gobber flew within earshot, the dragon flapping around almost perpendicular to the armada. "Skullcrusher, is it Hiccup?" Stoick asked, voice on the brink of shaking. The Rumblehorn snarled, jerking his head at the huge ship leading the fleet.

"He's down there," Stoick murmured. He looked at Gobber and his features twisted with fury. "He has my son, Gobber—"

"Are ye sure?"

"The trail ends here," Stoick said, familiar with Skullcrusher's mannerisms when tracking, "And if Hiccup were dead, Skullcrusher's reaction would be very different." He'd tracked dead men before with the help of his dragon—Skullcrusher's nose was never wrong. Hiccup—and Astrid, too, hopefully—were alive, at the very least.

"So, he's alive. That must mean Astrid is fine, too."

"We don't know that. Alive doesn't mean healthy," Stoick answered. "C'mon, Gobber, we're going to find them."

Gobber hissed, "Now, wait jus' a minute, Stoick! We can't attack a fleet of warships with two dragons!"

"We don't need to attack a fleet, we just need to attack one ship," Stoick replied stubbornly, pointing to the flagship.

"And what if he's not on that one? How many men d'ya think are on those ships? Ye'd be lucky not to be spotted before ye ever get close," Gobber warned, "This is too dangerous, Stoick. You can't rescue them if you've gotten yerself caught, too."

"Are you suggesting that we _leave _my son and daughter-in-law?" Stoick hissed.

"Not by choice," Gobber snapped. The wind picked up as the storm fell over them now, overtaking the fleet ahead and stretching its chaotic embrace ever wider. The blacksmith shouted over the roar. "Believe me, Stoick, other than you, no one wants to see them safe and sound more than I. But this is a gamble that we cannot come out of on top. Look what direction they're sailin'—they've got to be headin' for Berk. I'll bet my skivvies that they're holding Hiccup and Astrid captive, and they know about Berk."

"And likely torturing them for information," Stoick growled.

"Maybe," Gobber lamented, "But there isn'ea anything we can do right now to help them. We need an army to attack this fleet, and there is one back on Berk. We go home, gather all've our dragons and warriors and prepare for battle. We rest, and in the mornin' we strike out again and blow this fleet ta splinters. _That's _when we rescue Hiccup and Astrid."

Stoick flipped back and forth between emotions, from anger to fear, then to understanding and back again to anger. Every fiber of emotion in his body was telling him to dive down there and find his son, find his daughter-in-law and their dragons, but every fiber of reason was telling him that Gobber was right. The fleet below them was sailing for war, and the closest enemy in sight for them was that of Berk. Drago must know about them; there was no point in hiding anymore. But attacking this fleet now like he so badly wanted to do was more likely to end in his capture or death than it was to end in a successful rescue mission. He needed backup, and lots of it.

"Let's get back to Berk," Stoick relented. Gobber nodded and started to steer Grump back to the west, aiming to jump out ahead of the incoming fleet. They'd have to fly as fast as possible in order to get back, rest, and head out again. If they hurried, they could be on the way by tomorrow morning, catching the fleet well before they could reach Berk.

As Gobber and Grump flew off, Stoick glared down at Drago's ships, drifting on the water toward his home. "Hold on, son. We'll get you and Astrid out soon enough," he whispered, "and Drago Bludvist will pay." Then, he grabbed Skullcrusher's horns and spurred the dragon on, chasing after Gobber and heading for home.

Thunder rumbled at his back, obscuring the distant sound of flapping wings.

* * *

"Eat up."

Astrid looked up from the floor, eyeing the guard as he slid a tray of food through the space between the bars and the ground. Astrid peered at the bowl and flinched, recoiling at the sight of the incorrigible brown slop inside a black bowl. Two other guards slid identical trays into Hiccup and Eret's cells.

Astrid held the guard in a glare. It had been a rough twelve hours. She hadn't gotten much sleep, kept awake by the unending cacophony of an army in the middle of mobilizing. Then, the ships had lurched forward and swayed in the sea, noisily filtering out from the secluded cave serving as the army's camp. There was no doubt that they were heading for Berk. Astrid had then spent the majority of the daytime pacing back and forth and searching for some kind of way out. On the occasion that a guard came to do a walkthrough and check on them, they'd made a habit of catcalling her and banging their spears against the bars of her cell until she finally gave up.

"What're you looking at, bitch?" the guard snapped at her. He hit his spear against her cell again, producing a sharp ringing sound that grated on Astrid's ears.

Reluctantly, she stood and walked over to the bowl full of slop, kneeling down to peer at the disgusting mixture. With a combative sneer, she shoved the tray back out of the cell to the guard's feet, rejecting the meal. The tray hit the guard's shoes and some of the slop dribbled out of the bowl. The guard looked down at the platter before matching Astrid's glare.

He snorted, leveling yet another vulgar comment at her as if there was no end to his impropriety. "Dumb whore. Fine," he bent down and grabbed the dish to take it away, "You're going hungry tonight. See how you like it in the morning."

The guard walked away, closely followed by his two comrades as they returned to the darkness of the other side of the hall. On top of everything that had kept Astrid from sleeping last night, the trio had been drinking and gambling for almost the entire time that they'd been on duty, as if being assigned to guard a few prisoners was some sort of rest break. Their activity had been a noisy affair. On the positive, though, it had allowed Astrid, Hiccup, and Eret to converse with each other almost without interruption—whenever they felt like speaking to one another, anyway.

A thunderclap shook the ship, a deep rumble rolling along the waves. Astrid peered out the window of her cell, watching as raindrops fell past the gaps in the wall, barely visible in the darkness of nighttime. The rain picked up, producing a consistent sound on the roof of the jail that was oddly calming. Maybe she'd actually get some sleep tonight.

Astrid looked over as Hiccup sat down on the floor of his cell and dragged his tray closer, reluctantly grabbing the spoon that had been brought with it.

"You're not actually going to eat that, are you?" Astrid asked, resisting the urge to gag.

Hiccup shrugged, not looking happy about it. "Gotta eat somewhere, right?" He slowly slipped the spoon into the semisolid mixture, grimacing as he struggled to even stir it, and then lifted a sliver of the meal to his mouth.

His face twisted in revulsion as he tasted it, and he reluctantly forced the food down his throat before setting his spoon back on the tray. "Ugh…" he grunted, stomach turning, "I'd rather eat your cooking." Astrid's eyebrows curved down in a sharp glare and Hiccup held up his hand, "And I mean that in a one-hundred percent complimentary way. I'm pretty sure that this doesn't even qualify as food."

"That bad, huh?"

"Your worst dish is ten times what this is," Hiccup clarified, "No, _twenty _times what this is."

"That's kind of a backhanded compliment, babe," Astrid said with a small smile, biting back a giggle. Laughter felt wrong considering their overall situation.

"Well, you haven't thrown anything at me yet, so I thought you appreciated it," Hiccup said, flashing a smile that Astrid could only describe as cute. This time, she allowed a chuckle to slip from her lips, happy to see that he at least hadn't lost his sense of humor in the middle of their dire predicament.

"I don't really have anything that I could throw at you right now, anyway, so I'll have to get you back another time."

Eret cleared his throat, voice rattling with spite. "You two really are just so cute together, you know that?"

"We get that a lot," Astrid shot back. "Did you want some of Hiccup's food, Eret?"

Eret gestured to his bowl, which was surprisingly empty, the provided wooden spoon resting haughtily inside the bowl. "I've already eaten mine. The trick is to breathe through your mouth, it helps it go down faster and you don't taste it as much."

"Speaking from experience?" Astrid asked, and Eret shrugged.

"You don't exactly get delicious home-cooked meals every night out on the sea."

Another burst of laughter filled the jail, the guards howling with glee from their little table down the hall. Astrid heard the clink of bottles on the table and saw one shadow setting down a mug in the glow of the candlelight. Somehow, the men were still drinking. They were the second shift of guards, the first group of three having been relieved a few hours ago. The drinking had persisted into the second shift, arguably both harder and faster as day turned to night and the hard work of the daytime came to a close.

"They've got to be too drunk to stand by now," Astrid mused, voice at a whisper.

"Whatever you're plotting, it's a bad idea," Eret warned.

"Who says I'm plotting?"

"Your entire face."

Astrid glared at Eret matter-of-factly. "Their minds are addled. I can fake a sickness, and if they come into my cell, I'll get one of their weapons and kill them. They won't be able to so much as call for help."

"And then what?"

"We free our dragons and get the Hel off of this godsforsaken ship. They're here somewhere."

Eret shook his head, "Most likely, yes, but even so, there are patrols all over this ship and every other one in the fleet. If your dragons are even on this ship instead of another one, they won't be close to here."

"We'll cross the whole damned fleet if we have to."

"And what happens when you get caught?"

"We fight."

"And then you lose. Like it or not, girl: there are three of us, and many, many more of them."

Astrid looked over to the next cell for support, noticing that Hiccup was simply watching them in silence. "You going to back me up and say something, or do I have to do all the arguing?" she snapped, folding her arms impatiently.

Hiccup looked down for a moment, scratching the faint hint of stubble along his jaw. "I actually agree with Eret, as it happens…" Astrid flinched and curled her lips in a scowl, but Hiccup held up his hands before she could speak, "Before you get mad—he's right, it's too risky."

"Since when have you balked in the face of a little risk?" Astrid snarled.

"Astrid, think about where we are. There are way too many things that could go wrong right now. Think, my dad definitely tried to follow us out here. If he hasn't already deduced that we've been captured, then he will soon, and he'll bring back the whole village to free us if he has to. We're better off waiting."

"We can't bet on that. They'd be leaving Berk totally unprotected. We've bided our time for almost the entire day."

"And we can bide it a little longer," Hiccup said. He stepped up to the bars, "What if you get the guards into your cell by faking an illness, like you said? What if you can't get one of their weapons or they see through you? They don't sound like they're in their right mind right now, they could seriously hurt you."

"Let them try," Astrid clenched her jaw tight, the bones in her face revealing themselves.

"What if they try to… _you know…?" _Hiccup whispered. "They may have orders not to touch you, but people don't exactly consider the consequences of their actions after they've had too much to drink. Are you willing to risk something like that on a rough escape plan? Because I'm really, really not."

Astrid withered, unwillingly thinking about such things. Hiccup-she admitted begrudingly-had a point. They'd been catcalling her all day, so they were clearly interested. If one guard tried to violate her, she could fight back. But if all three of them tried? She'd fight like Hel, but they'd find a way to hold her down, no matter how hard she thrashed. And neither Hiccup nor Eret would be able to help her, forced to watch or listen against their will. She wouldn't subject her husband to that, or herself. She couldn't. Her eyes wandered to Eret, who was standing against the bars of his cell now. He seemed to know what she was thinking, and with his eyes he told her not to try anything.

Astrid sighed and deflated. "Alright. I'll wait."

Hiccup relaxed, features softening as he curled his fingers around the bars of his cell. "Thank you, milady."

"But if an opportunity comes and we can actually escape, I'm not standing by. I'm taking it."

Hiccup nodded, "Fine. But _only _if one comes."

"And what if one doesn't?" Eret snorted from across the narrow corridor.

Hiccup cocked his head in the trapper's direction. Even though he'd shot down Astrid's plan, his hope wasn't lost. He was still thinking like her. "One will. Eventually."

* * *

Astrid's eyes flicked open, seemingly of their own accord. It was still dark in her cell—it was late into the night now and she'd actually been able to get a small amount of rest. The provided furs were raggedy and uncomfortable, but she'd eventually been so tired that it hadn't mattered. The storm had continued, persistently hanging over them and producing a low, constant lull that had steadily shut her eyes closed for a time. The rain was still going strong, too, a dull roar coming from both the sea and the body of the ship as the droplets drummed against them.

One of the guards was audibly snoring down the hall, probably passed out drunk in his chair. There was still a trace of candlelight coming from around that corner, but the sounds of chatter and revelry had otherwise quieted.

Then Astrid heard it. Thor struck his anvil hard—a great bolt of lightning lit up the night, a roll of thunder closely followed, and then the faintest sound like a roar rumbled in after, too faint to hear if one wasn't absolutely silent and in the right place.

"_Rooooawww!"_

Astrid sat up, not entirely sure why. It was likely just a lone dragon caught in the storm, perhaps now flying too close to a horde of greedy humans. Still, her instincts pushed her to crawl across her cell, clenching her fingers around the bars separating her from her husband.

"_Hiccup!"_

She kept her voice low, flinching as a few other roars rang out in answer. Given that she assumed Drago didn't keep many of his dragons out in the open, she suspected that the roars were coming from free dragons, and there were several of them. Astrid hissed her husband's name again, feeling a rush of relief as the huddled mass that was Hiccup squirmed and turned his head.

"Astrid?" he murmured sleepily. She saw the silhouettes of his arms raise up to rub at his eyes.

"Listen," she hissed, "Do you hear that?"

Hiccup blinked in the darkness and focused. A few seconds later, the roars of several more dragons split the night. There was no way that it was just captive dragons crying out from their traps.

"Dragons," Hiccup whispered.

Astrid nodded. "Yeah. Lots of them."

"You hear it too, then?" Eret's voice rustled from across the pitch-black corridor. "I was starting to think I was going mad." She wondered how long he'd been awake.

As soon as Eret finished his sentence, the blackness outside his cell window lit up with orange, the unmistakable glare of dragonfire peeking through the gap in the wall. The faint sound of an explosion followed the glow, growing louder as the noise traveled and overtook the jailhouse. As one, shouts erupted across the decks, filling the night with battle cries.

"Something's coming," Eret hissed. His shape shuffled around in the darkness, and he half-shouted a warning to Hiccup and Astrid. "Grab onto something!"

Astrid and Hiccup obeyed, grabbing the bars of their cells as tightly as they could. Barely a few moments later, Eret's window lit up with a much brighter glow of fire, and without any additional warning the flagship nearly turned on its side from the force of a crushing impact. Heat spilled in through the window of Eret's cell, filling the jail with warmth as the large ship whined in response to whatever flame had struck it. A second later, something large and airborne zoomed over the dungeon, accompanied by an almost deafening _whoosh._

The guards woke up immediately.

"_What the fuck's that sound?"_ Astrid heard a voice shout, the words slurred together, _"Didja hear that?"_

"Did more than heard it," another guard answered, his voice not quite as loud or impaired. The shouting of soldiers rippled through the windows and the cracks in the walls, a series of war cries that sent one message.

"We're under attack!" one of the guards slurred, "Move your asses, this ain't a drill!" The sounds of chairs sliding out from under tables filled the dungeon, and Astrid heard a sword slide haphazardly out from its scabbard.

"Agnus, stay here. We can't leave the prisoners alone, they'll escape," someone said from around the corner. No protest was made against the order and the jailhouse door wailed as it was nearly ripped off of its hinges, another battle cry adding itself to the mix as two of the three guards rushed out into the attack. The last guard shuffled into the corridor between the cells, looking around at the three prisoners as he slid a lit torch into a holder on the nearest wall. Its light managed to illuminate all of their forms.

"D-don't try anything," he murmured. Astrid could practically smell the alcohol and sweat on him. The man was well and truly drunk, though whether he was better or worse off than his two comrades was hard to say. If _this _was the one they'd decided to leave behind, well…

"We won't," Eret said. He audibly winced, clearly exaggerating the sound. "But sir, my bandages need to be changed. They were supposed to be changed before bed, but no one came."

Astrid cocked an eyebrow. That was true, but she didn't know if Eret really _needed _his bandages changed. The guard turned to face Eret, managing to slur the only word he uttered in response.

"_Huh?"_

"My bandages," Eret repeated, gingerly gesturing to the gauze wrapping around his torso, "They're old. If they don't get changed, my wounds will get infected."

The guard swayed, and Astrid imagined that his facial features were twisting and turning in confusion, debating what to do. "Y-you're a traitor. Y-you deserve… infection…" the man managed. He wiped a meaty arm across his face, surely brushing sweat from his brow.

Eret held his hands up, "Hey, it's Agnus, right? Krogan ordered my bandages to be changed every day and night. His orders came from Drago. You can't disobey Drago, right?"

The guard mulled over the suggestion some more, and apparently Eret saw something that encouraged him, because he kept talking. "Look… I'm unarmed. You're not. I won't run. But I need my bandages changed. These are dirty, and they burn. If I get sick, I could die, and then you'll really be in trouble." Eret showed his empty hands and gestured to his empty belt. He'd had his twin swords and their sheaths taken from him before they were thrown in here.

Agnus seemed convinced. "I'll get the… roll of bandages…" he slurred and shuffled off down the corridor. He returned barely a moment later, stepping heavily and chaotically as he carried a small roll of white gauze in his hand. Without hesitation, Agnus fingered the ring of keys off of his hip and tried to find the lock. It was a struggle for the man, the torchlight was only so useful, and he was inebriated, but after a few tries he managed to unlock Eret's cell. The gate whined as Agnus swung it open, and as soon as he was on the other side of the door, Agnus turned to lock the door behind him, too drunk to think twice about turning his back to an unrestrained prisoner.

Eret struck instantly, grabbing the guard and yanking him back as he covered the man's mouth to prevent him from screaming. Agnus' spear clattered to the floor; the noise drowned out by the growing sounds of battle coming from outside. Agnus thrashed in Eret's grip, writhing as the trapper tightened his hold around his neck, suffocating him.

"Sorry, Agnus, this isn't personal, but you can't really trust the word of a traitor, am I right?" Eret quipped, and he squeezed harder as Agnus made a muffled sound in response. A few seconds later, Agnus went limp in Eret's grasp, and the trapper laid him down on the floor of the cell. He snatched Agnus' keyring, swinging open the unlocked door of his cell and proudly strutting out like a six-foot-tall peacock.

Another volley of dragonfire struck land outside, generating a crackling explosion. Eret glanced up at Hiccup and Astrid, his pearly white smile lighting up in the glow of the torchlight outside his cell. "There's that opportunity you were talking about," he said.

Astrid's eyes shook as she pleaded. "Eret, please let us out."

Eret held up a hand. "You don't have to beg; I was getting to that. You two are my only chance at getting off of this ship."

"Is that your way of saying we've grown on you?" Hiccup asked, a grin cautiously rising to his face.

"Don't push it," Eret warned, and he swiftly unlocked Hiccup's cell and then Astrid's. Both Vikings stepped out into the corridor, exchanging a thrilled look. Eret looked over his shoulder at Agnus, the unconscious drunk's chest rising and falling slowly. "Oh, and just to make it a bit more embarrassing…" Eret said, and he shut the door of his own cell and locked it shut, leaving the guard trapped inside.

"Good call," Astrid approved.

Eret nodded. "Now, then, let's see about getting out of here." He grabbed the torch off of the wall and they headed down the short corridor to the jail's exit, the small room lighting up in the torch's glare.

Across the room from the table were their weapons, all laid out nice and neat together. Eret half-chuckled, stifling a happy sigh, "I love it when they make it easy."

"You can say that again," Hiccup agreed. They quickly geared up, returning their weapons to their rightful places. Astrid spun her axe in her hand, relishing the feel of the weight back in her grasp again. It had only been a day, and still it felt like she had spent an eternity without her beloved weapon. Hiccup peered through the dual openings of his sword, frowning and then reaching into the pocket of his armor to replace the necessary pods that fueled the weapon.

"If you don't mind my asking," Eret said, sliding his twin swords into their sheaths. "How exactly does that thing work?"

Hiccup waved the sword in Eret's vision. "Easy. This button controls the retractable blade," Hiccup pointed to the button on the hilt, and then the end of the sword where the blade was folded inside, "One end coats the blade in Monstrous Nightmare saliva and lights it, the other sprays Hideous Zippleback gas."

Eret raised an eyebrow, "Impressive, if a bit impractical."

"I'd be more than happy to prove you wrong." Hiccup grabbed his helmet, also conveniently left to rest on the table, and strapped it on.

"And you? Do you have any special dragon modifications on your axe?" Eret asked Astrid, almost sarcastically.

"Nope. Just steel," Astrid replied. Eret nodded and turned his attention to the door, carefully approaching it. As he carefully tugged it open, the sounds of battle spilled inside, ringing metal and roaring fire and beating wings rattling the very wind. A bell was tolling somewhere, a call to action summoning Drago's forces to battle like a legion of einherjar. _**[1]**_

Slowly, they stepped out into the carnage, careful not to be seen. All three of them looked around, finding the sky full of dragons. Fire lit up the night, illuminating flashes of scales and spewing onto the deck as the reptiles swooped overhead.

"Is it Berk's army?" Hiccup whispered to Astrid, eyes flicking back and forth through the night.

"No," Eret answered instead, his attention focused solely on a huge shape as it whooshed over the deck. Hiccup and Astrid followed the shape, barely making out the slim figure of a person standing atop the dragon's back, features they could only see because of the rampant fire illuminating them. Four long wings extended from the dragon's large body, and a vortex of flame discharged from the beast's mouth to paint one of Drago's nearby ships in a brilliant orange blaze.

"It's the Dragon Rider," Astrid gasped. She tried to keep watching the mysterious rider, but his dragon faded into the storm and more dragons took its place, spitting fire on whatever they could find.

"We need to go find our dragons, and fast," Hiccup said. Eret nodded in agreement.

"Stick to the shadows. Check every trap. They're here somewhere."

* * *

_**[1]** _**\- for those who don't know, the _einherjar _are the fallen soldiers that reside in Valhalla. They will wait there until Ragnarök, upon which 800 men each will emerge from the 540 doors of Valhalla and follow Odin to fight Fenrir, where they will pretty much all die at the hands (paws?) of the giant wolf. Fun stuff.**

**That's all for this installment. Please consider posting a review if you enjoyed this chapter. Tell me what you liked and disliked! Next chapter should be coming on 2/28, but if that doesn't happen, then instead on 3/6. Thanks for reading!**


	9. The Dragon Rider

**Updating the night before I normally do because I want to. This chapter is a real whopper, a _lot_ is about to go down that will shape several parts of the story.**

**Let's get started.**

* * *

_**9\. The Dragon Rider**_

The sheer size of Drago's flagship didn't truly become clear until Astrid stepped out of the jail. It was much, much larger than any longship she had ever seen. She refocused as a roar split the night, followed by another beam of fire that crashed into a ship nearby. The escape had been easy. Too easy. Astrid cradled her axe in one hand and skulked across the dark deck, blending into the raging battle around them. She set her eyes on the first dragon trap she could see, a large metal dome that was bolted into the floor.

Astrid slipped into the shadow of the trap, Hiccup and Eret close behind and pressing their backs against the steel. Astrid took another moment to consider the size of the ship. Surely, at least a hundred men plus a sizable collection of dragons could be housed on this vessel alone. Considering the number of transports surrounding the ship, there was no telling just how many men and dragons made up Drago's army. It was likely the largest force Astrid had ever seen or ever would see.

Dragons snarled and flapped overhead, spitting fire and forcefully breaking open traps to free other dragons. Men combated them from the ground, slinging bolas and blasting nets into the sky. Others deliberately opened some of the traps to reveal trapped dragons inside, luring other beasts down from the skies and then snapping them shut once they landed in the domes.

"Keep an eye out," Astrid hissed under her breath. Hiccup and Eret did as she asked, and Astrid immediately cranked the wheel on the side of the trap they were standing beside. The sound of the metal creaking open was completely masked by the combined noise of the battle and the thunderstorm surging overhead, raindrops hammering against the dome of the steel trap. Once the opening was just large enough for her to fit through, she slipped inside and out of sight.

As she touched down in the darkness, she felt the rush of warmth from a dragon exhaling. Its breath stank of fish and made Astrid woozy—most of the dragons on Berk didn't suffer from awful breath thanks to regular teeth cleanings. Whatever dragon she was facing obviously enjoyed no such luxuries. Astrid blinked hard, trying to adjust her eyes to the total darkness, and then she carefully stuck out her hand, showing the unseen dragon that she meant no harm.

"Hello," she whispered, and she heard a slight hum of curiosity. Not a sound that might come from Toothless or Stormfly, but still a trapped dragon likely cowering in fear.

Outside, there was a flash of orange as a stream of dragonfire painted the deck several feet away. The resulting glare exposed Astrid's eyes to a thatch of dark blue scales in front of her, bound and restrained in iron links.

"What's going on in there, Astrid?" Hiccup hissed out of the corner of his mouth, his soft whisper echoing off of the inside of the trap's walls. She could tell that he was growing increasingly uncomfortable the longer they spent standing in one place (and also, he probably wasn't enjoying standing in the freezing rain). Thanks to the brief aid lent by the light of dragonfire, Astrid went to work on the chains, carefully cutting them with the sharp blade of her axe.

As soon as she cleaved through the first link, she answered her impatient husband. "No Stormfly or Toothless, but I'm not leaving this guy here just because he's not who I'm looking for," A few seconds later, she finished cutting the chains and breaking the cuffs around the dragon's legs. The metal lightly clattered to the ground and Astrid stepped back out, reaching for the crank that controlled the dome and slowly opening it. Once the opening was wide enough, a Thunderdrum slithered out of the trap, pivoting its body so that it could slide its wide form through the vertical gap. The sea dragon's scales were a deep blue, a row of serrated teeth extending from its lower gum and rising above its flat head. Its golden eyes were the picture of uncertainty.

"Hey there," Hiccup said, gently holding his hand out to the Tidal Class dragon. The Thunderdrum eyed Hiccup for a moment and then inched forward, trusting him almost inexplicably as it nuzzled forward into his touch. Hiccup had that effect on dragons.

"Alright, that's pretty cool," Eret conceded, shoulders sagged. His eyes wandered over the Thunderdrum's body, noticing the marks on the side of its head near its left eye. The scar was made up of three wounds that twisted across one another, long embedded into the skin to leave behind gruesome, eternal scabs.

"It's not a one-way deal, see? If you want them to trust you, you have to trust them," Hiccup said. "Once you earn a dragon's trust, there is nothing they won't do for you."

Eret's eyes flicked over again and he found himself trapped in the Thunderdrum's stare, curiosity brimming in its black pupils.

"What's it doing?" he asked nervously.

"Sizing you up," Hiccup said with a wistful smile. Eret glanced at Hiccup for a perplexing second and then looked back to the Thunderdrum, brow furrowed in confusion. The sea dragon gave a long exhale and then pivoted, lifting its wings and launching into the air and going over the side of the ship into the darkness. A discordant bellow shook the night as the dragon disappeared from sight, a jubilant cry of liberty.

"You're free now," Eret muttered under his breath, trying to scan the darkness for the Thunderdrum's shape. Astrid thought she knew that look—it reminded her of how she'd felt upon first meeting Stormfly. Meeting her _for real._

"Let's keep moving. We don't have much time," Hiccup said, jarring Astrid back to reality. She nodded and they dashed into the shadows again, sneaking across the deck and hiding from soldiers as they opened trap after trap, freeing whatever dragon they found and hoping that the next one would contain one of their dragons.

Eventually, they came across two domes side by side with one another, embedded in the deck on the front half of the vessel. Hiccup stepped up to the left one, closer to the edge of the ship, and Astrid approached the one on the right. She cranked the wheel, peeling the jagged metal doors apart from one another, and as soon as she did, a familiar squawk tutted out from the darkness within, inharmonious as it bounced off of the metal walls, but still music to Astrid's ears.

"_Rawk?"_

"Oh, Stormfly!" Astrid nearly squealed, stifling her excitement and hoping she hadn't been too loud. Hiccup opened his own trap, and almost immediately after Astrid had found Stormfly, he nearly shouted.

"It's Toothless! Oh, thank Thor!" Astrid heard Toothless warble from inside, and an enormous weight lifted off of her shoulders. They'd been lucky, their dragons had been stashed right next to one another, neighbors in their captivity.

Eret sucked in a sudden breath, freezing as he stood off to the side of the two domes to keep a lookout. "You two—" he warned, voice coming out in a strangled cry.

Astrid craned her neck to look to the right, stiffening as she saw what Eret had seen. Before she could yell a warning to her husband, Eret beat her to the punch.

"_Down!" _Eret shouted, collapsing to the deck. Astrid followed suit, and she heard a scrape of metal as Hiccup dropped as well, his leg sliding against the wood. A ball of fire struck the side of Astrid's dome with a deafening _boom, _denting the thick metal and heating it so much that its usual dark gray color instantly glowed orange. A second blast flew over Eret and Hiccup's heads, dissipating into a shower of sparks as it tumbled over the edge of the ship. Astrid lifted her head from where she'd been protecting it, only to hear the song of Eret's twin swords leaving their sheaths.

"_What the Hel was that?" _Hiccup shouted, looking up from his place on the floor. Toothless let out a worried warble, still stuck inside the trap and unable to see what had caused his rider such panic. Hiccup must've gotten up and saw what Astrid and Eret were looking at, because he didn't repeat his question.

Standing across the deck was the hulking shape of a man, flanked by two Thunderclaws whose scales were black as night. Their heads were wrapped in shimmering metal helmets, and they bared their teeth as they stood on either side of Drago Bludvist, throats glowing with readied fire.

"I should've killed you all when I had the chance," Drago grunted, an ominous greeting if there ever was one. He flashed a terrible smile, lifting the point of his bullhook off of the deck, "Allow me to rectify my mistake." Drago pointed his weapon at the three of them, and the two Thunderclaws at his side immediately rushed forward with a roar.

"Take them down!" Eret howled. Hiccup brandished Inferno, its blade coming to life in a magnificent blaze of fire, and Astrid leveled her axe into the air. The Thunderclaws advanced and each spat a ball of fire, prompting Hiccup, Astrid, and Eret to all dive out of the way. Stormfly let out a shrill squawk, still chained and worried about Astrid.

Astrid swerved as the Thunderclaw focused on her came barreling at her, snarling. The dragon gnashed its teeth and burst over her head, immediately pivoting as it missed her. The senseless beast miscalculated, though, and rammed its rear half into the dome holding Stormfly. The clang of metal made the Thunderclaw flinch for only a second, and Astrid took that as her opening, diving at the dragon and grabbing onto its neck. The dragon tried to bite her in half as she twisted past its mouth, but she was too quick.

Astrid straddled the dragon's neck, holding onto the wet steel plate decorating its head for balance as she leaned off the side of its neck. The Thunderclaw thrashed, unable to see her, and Astrid raked her nails into the dragon's flesh, slowing it momentarily. She smirked—it seemed whatever cruel hold Drago had on these dragons could at least be challenged with a few simple tricks. Muscle memory alone practically guided her to deliver a wicked pinch in just the right spot, and the dragon collapsed underneath her, slipping into a sudden snooze.

Astrid looked over her shoulder to see Hiccup dealing with the second Thunderclaw, taking an altogether different approach as he waved Inferno in front of the armored dragon's eyes. Rain pelted the blade, but it continued to burn, the Monstrous Nightmare flames causing steam to waft off of the sword. The black beast seemed almost enthralled, though its legs were twitching animalistically as if it wanted to keep fighting. He could handle himself. Astrid looked in front of her, adding a second set of eyes on Drago. Eret had dived out of the dragons' charge, and the reptiles had ignored him from then on. Behind her there was a thud that she knew was the second Thunderclaw being talked down.

"Get your dragons out," Eret ordered out of nowhere, and he leveled his twin swords in Drago's direction.

"What?" Astrid blurted, but he didn't dignify her with a response. Instead, the trapper charged headfirst, advancing on Drago with a yell.

"Eret, what are you doing!?" Astrid shouted.

"Let him go, we have to get Toothless and Stormfly out!" Hiccup told her. Astrid heard the first clang of weapon against weapon and then nodded, sliding off of the sleeping Thunderclaw's back and diving between the gap in the trap's doors. Stormfly squawked as she entered, relieved. She heard Hiccup do the same, and immediately she went to work tearing apart the chains holding her dragon.

First, she broke open the manacle holding Stormfly's left foot, slipping the blade of her axe into the narrow gap between the cuff and her dragon's skin. Stormfly winced as Astrid started to pry the metal off, but the shackle broke remarkably easily and Stormfly didn't fuss any further. Next she dismantled the chains draped across Stormfly's wings and back, relieving her girl of most of the weight that must've kept her immobilized. Finally, it was on to the muzzle, keeping the Nadder's mouth almost totally shut so that she couldn't breathe fire and melt her restraints.

"Sorry in advance, girl," Astrid warned, and then she pounded the muzzle with the pommel of her axe. Stormfly recoiled, and Astrid was sure that it didn't feel particularly good, but she didn't know how else to take the muzzle off right now. She'd managed the others well enough by putting her back into things and yanking them off, but with Stormfly so high off the ground she would never be able to manage that.

Fortunately, her answer came in the form of her husband waltzing in through the gap to enter the dome with her. He was holding Inferno high to light his way, and through its glow she saw Toothless on the other side. Of course he'd already broken his dragon out.

"Need a hand?" Hiccup asked her, surely grinning behind his mask. He leveled Inferno at her, offering to use it on the muzzle.

"Yes, please," Astrid said exasperatedly. She was beginning to sweat—it was hot in this dome and the activity fighting off a Thunderclaw just a moment ago had really ramped up her heartbeat. Hiccup passed along his flaming sword, and Astrid slid the thin blade underneath the muzzle. Stormfly _purred _at the feel of the fire on her scales, and in seconds the metal started to glow, the Monstrous Nightmare fire on the blade working its magic.

A few seconds later, Inferno cut through the muzzle like a hot knife through butter, and Hiccup dragged the loosened manacle off of Stormfly's face. The Nadder trilled and Astrid slid off of her back, relieved.

"Let's get the Hel out of here," she recommended, and neither Hiccup nor Stormfly argued. She slipped out first, then Hiccup, and he turned to crank the trap open far enough for Stormfly to stumble out. Toothless cooed at the sight of them escaping, chartreuse eyes pulsating with relief.

Eret's loud grunt closely preceded a clang of metal, his twin shortswords smashing against the shaft of Drago's bullhook. The two were still battling across the deck, and fire rained down all around them, some blasts closer than others. Astrid watched a column of flame fall upon a dragon trap and utterly destroy it, allowing a winged shape to flap into the sky from the ruined dome and take off with a roar. Drago must've known he was losing time in the fight, because he started letting out a roar with each swing, grunting horribly each time that Eret raised his weapons to parry his. Eret stayed paralyzingly silent, a near-perfect counter to Drago's aggressive, powerful style. The heavy rain dripped off of both men in waves, soaking their hair and their clothes.

Drago's maddened eyes briefly panned over, noticing Astrid and Hiccup standing with their freed dragons. His fury increased tenfold. With a guttural snarl that couldn't possibly come from a human being, Drago reared his arm back and smashed his bullhook against Eret's raised swords, hitting just hard enough to loosen the trapper's grip on them.

Eret jerked back as Drago swung the bullhook at his head in quick succession, its sharp point grazing across his cheek. Eret staggered a few steps away, sneering as he felt the hot touch of blood drip down his face. Drago flashed an insidious grin, goading Eret to attack again.

Eret took the bait, yelling and lurching forward with his swords. Drago jabbed his bullhook up at the swords, catching both small blades on the shaft's curved lower end. The conqueror twisted his weapon and expertly jerked both swords out of Eret's grip, slinging the blades across the deck. Eret turned his head to watch his swords fly away, distracted for all of an instant.

Hiccup shouted with horror, "Eret!"

The bullhook was already coming. Eret tried to shuffle sideways, able to get just far enough away that the point only tore into his side, cleaving a gash above his hip. Crimson blood spurted from the fresh wound and Eret yelled, twisting all the way around as he lost his balance and fell to the deck. Drago loomed over him, resting his heavy foot on the wounded trapper's chest.

"I missed," Drago sneered. Eret shivered on the deck, rain pelting his face as he tried to cover the wound with his hand. Lightning merged with fire in the distance, illuminating Drago's shape with a haunting orange-white glare like one of Surtr's fire giants, sent from Muspelheim to slaughter and pillage. Perhaps he _was_ one-he seemed too fearsome to be a normal man.

"We have to help Eret!" Astrid shouted above the rain. She staggered forward, ready to dash forward.

"Way ahead of you—" Hiccup growled.

Instead, another shape went rushing at Drago, nearly knocking Astrid and Hiccup over as it sprinted past them to charge all-out across the deck, large but balanced feet thundering against the wood. Drago's eyes snapped up to see Stormfly sprinting at him, opening her mouth full of serrated teeth and spitting a jet of white-hot fire. Drago straightened and jerked his dragonskin cloak up in front of his body just in time, offering a shield from the blistering flames. Stormfly planted her feet and kept shooting, pouring all of her strength into blasting fire. Her fire superheated the thick water wetting Drago's cloak, and a searing mixture of steam and smoke lifted off of the dragonskin garment, shrouding the conqueror's shape as he held his ground.

"Let's go!" Astrid said, and this time she jetted forward in order to reach Eret, who was using the distraction to scrabble away from Drago as fast as he could manage while still covering his side with his hand. Hiccup and Toothless bounded after her, and Stormfly finally let off the gas as Astrid slid in beside Eret.

"Toothless, cover them!" Toothless spat balls of plasma at Drago next, hitting with more force than Stormfly could hope to muster. The powerful blasts knocked Drago back a few steps each time, though he kept his cloak pulled in front of him. The mix of smoke and steam only grew thicker with each of Toothless' shots, forming a wall of haze between the dragon riders (and Eret) and their foe. Meanwhile, Astrid looped an arm around Eret and helped him to his feet.

"Stormfly, let's get out of here!" Astrid half-shouted, prompting Stormfly to crouch down and make it easy for the pair to mount her. Dragons continued to screech in the night, swooping back and forth yet again. The _thwack _of nets being launched accompanied the screeching, though there was no way to tell if any hit their mark. They needed to move. The commotion around them had caught the attention of other soldiers, but in the jarring heat of the fight, there was no telling if the noise was from the storm or from men's boots pounding on the deck as they made their way closer and closer through the cluttered flagship.

As soon as Astrid and Eret were on Stormfly's back, Hiccup swung into position in Toothless' saddle, opening the prosthetic tailfin with practiced ease. "Go, go!" he yelled, and Toothless loosed a final bolt of plasma at Drago. The warlord had finally caught his footing, nearly resisting the blast's force entirely. Toothless unfurled his wings and lifted off, flapping high enough in just a few seconds that Drago couldn't reach them. The madman flung his cloak every which way to disperse the smoking steam around him, spotting them.

"Stop them!" Drago boomed from below, but it was useless. A few stray nets missed the riders and their dragons by a mile, and they kept accelerating as they took to the sky and flew away. The shapes of hundreds of dragons flocked back and forth in the night, a constant hum of life filling the sky as lightning thrashed the sky.

"We need to get back to Berk, quickly," Hiccup said to Astrid, looking over his shoulder at the fleet. A handful of ships were burning, but overall the army was still very much intact as they left them behind. The Dragon Rider had done little more than dent the full might of Drago's forces.

"I know. Hang tight, Eret, I've got some bandages in Stormfly's saddlebag," Astrid answered. Eret was seated in front of her on the saddle, leaning slack against Stormfly's neck and clutching his side with as tight a grip as he could muster, sticky crimson ooze sliding through the gaps between his fingers. Astrid leaned over her dragon's side, fishing a small roll of bandages and a few pins from one of the pockets of her saddlebag. She tried to ignore Eret bleeding all over her dragon.

"She saved me…" Eret managed, his voice hoarse. "Why?"

"She must like you. Hold still," Astrid warned, unwrapping the bandages and going to work. She wrapped the best circles that she could manage around Eret's midsection. It was dark out—and she had only the moonlight to go about her emergency medical procedure with, "I can barely see, so this isn't going to be my best work, but it should hold until we get back to Berk and get proper treatment." She stitched the bandaging together with the extra pins and then tried to wipe her hands, but the bloody residue had already caked to her fingers and wasn't going anywhere without a good wash.

They outran the storm and pierced through the clouds, the tall, clunky shapes of the thunderheads rumbling in the distance as they flickered with the glow of lightning. "What was that back there?" Hiccup called over at them.

"Beats me," Eret managed, "The Dragon Rider never attacks Drago directly." Toothless growled, head flicking back and forth. Hiccup patted the dragon's neck, ignoring the Night Fury's discomfort.

"I know, bud—" Hiccup murmured. He added purposefully, a hard expression visible through the eye holes of his helmet. "We'll have to worry about this Rider character _after_ we take down Drago."

"Talking to your Dad should be fun," Astrid muttered. She could already see _that _conversation going over well. How confused Stoick would be when they came careening into town with a brutally injured foreigner in their wake…

"Don't remind me…" Hiccup sighed. Toothless growled again, his head flicking back and forth as he narrowed his eyes with suspicion. This time, Hiccup took notice. "Toothless, what's wrong, bud?"

Stormfly's concerned squawk came next, and it sent a particular alarm through Astrid's brain. She reached out to brush the dragon's scales. "Stormfly's getting antsy, too. What is it, g—"

A sudden roar rippled through the night and the clouds immediately in front of Toothless and Stormfly erupted, a fountain of mist rising around a massive shape as it cut off the two dragons and their riders. The sudden stoppage nearly sent Astrid slamming into Eret's back, and she looked up to see what had jumped in front of them. Despite the low light, the silhouette was unmistakable. The dragon spread all four of its wings and flew in a wide arc in front of them, freezing Toothless and Stormfly in place with its stare. A slender shape stood atop the Stormcutter's back, holding what looked to be some kind of staff. Long spindly spines extended from the figure's head, giving the stranger an inhuman appearance.

The Dragon Rider.

The Stormcutter pulled up as it turned to face them, enormous wings kicking up mist. The figure stared at them, emotionless, and lifted its staff, pointing one of its hooked ends at the three people on the dragons' backs.

"Hold on, hold on!" Hiccup said, holding up his hands.

Something _slammed _into Astrid's shoulders, fastening around her and yanking her out of the saddle. She let out a scream that she swore to never admit to later, legs flailing as the dragon that had snatched her carried her higher. Another shape whizzed over Stormfly and spirited Eret away. Stormfly screeched, one instant carrying two people on her back and then the next carrying none.

"Stormfly!" Astrid cried.

"Astrid!" she heard Hiccup yell. Stormfly squawked as she looked up at her and mustered a mouthful of gas, ready to fire at the mysterious dragons, but Astrid saw Hiccup hold up one hand and talk the dragon down. "Wait, Stormfly—"

Before Hiccup could do anything more, a third shadow appeared and ripped him from Toothless' back, a metallic wail coming from the prosthetic's rigging as Hiccup's metal leg was ripped from the catch. Toothless thrashed and roared and Hiccup craned his neck to watch, yelling as the Night Fury began to fall.

"Toothless!" Hiccup shouted, breathless.

"Stormfly, get him!" Astrid screamed. The Nadder squawked at the sound of her voice and dove through the cloud cover after Toothless' plummeting shape. The enormous dragon and its rider that had cut them off came flapping in their direction, passing over them without acknowledgement.

"Hey! What did you do that for!?" Astrid snarled after the fleeting dragon. As she followed its path with her eyes, she saw dozens of other dragons emerge from the clouds, suddenly forming a huge pack to surround them.

"Hey!" Hiccup roared beside her, dangling from the clutches of a dragon. Again, the Rider paid them no heed, making no motion to even show that he'd heard either of them.

Instead, the pack of dragons answered, drowning them out with a loud, collective cry and then falling in behind the Dragon Rider, following the Stormcutter that he rode on into the night.

* * *

The sky was filled with the sounds of beating wings, an ever-present buzz under the cover of darkness. The moon was a tiny sliver in the sky, offering hardly any light for Hiccup to see their captor by. The enormous dragon, a Stormcutter, that the Rider had been standing on was leading the charge, all four of its vast wings beating in unison. The flock of dragons behind them hummed as one and followed dutifully, like an enormous pack of airborne wolves following their alpha on a hunt.

Hiccup looked up at the dragon carrying him, which he'd come to recognize as a Snafflefang. The dragon was wide but lean, showing no sign of fatigue as it carried him in its claws. He supposed he was rather light. Astrid was next to him, dangling in the steadfast grasp of a Windgnasher, its club-like head catching the slight moonlight in an eerie fashion. On her other side was Eret, nearly limp in the talons of a menacing Changewing. Hiccup eyed Eret's bandages again, noting the blood that had welled up behind them. It seemed like Astrid had done a decent enough job—the cloth had held through their ordeal. Still, it wouldn't substitute real treatment for long.

Toothless and Stormfly were nowhere to be seen. Hiccup had been seized off of his best friend's back and the Night Fury had plummeted toward the freezing waters below, powerless. Stormfly had gone after Toothless on Astrid's command in an attempt to save him but hadn't resurfaced either with or without Toothless.

Considering that he was still entangled in the grip of a strange dragon that was apparently following the Rider, he feared the worst for them both.

"Hey!" Hiccup hollered, "You left my dragon back there! He can't fly on his own, he'll drown! Please, we have to go back!"

"Mine's gone, too! What did you do to her?" Astrid added her voice to his. Their shouts of protest seemed to grate on the dragons carrying them, and the Windgnasher holding Astrid growled in warning. Eret remained dreadfully silent. He looked weak, eyes barely managing to stay open.

"At least stop and let us help our friend! He's hurt!" Hiccup shouted, but the Rider didn't listen, continuing to forge onward into the night. The dragons carrying them were close to the front of the pack, so Hiccup knew that the stranger could hear them. His eyes had adjusted much more during the flight, and the details of the Rider's appearance became clearer, if only slightly. The Rider stood on the Stormcutter's back, as he'd always been, and was clad in the strangest suit of armor Hiccup had ever seen. It completely covered the man's body and was festooned with bizarre spikes branching into the air from his head. In the Rider's grip was a quarterstaff also unlike anything Hiccup had ever seen. Large, thick hooks were attached to each end, possibly for grabbing onto things and bashing. The man was like something out of a myth meant to scare children, mentioned only in the frightening whispers of miserable old wives as a harbinger of doom.

The flock continued following the Rider and the Stormcutter until a mountain took shape in the distance. As they drew closer, the peak broke up into several—it was not just one mountain, but an island filled from end to end by them. The largest peak was sandwiched between its smaller brethren in the center of the isle, and the horde flew straight towards it like they had done it a thousand times.

Hiccup looked at Astrid nervously, and she matched his look. They closed in on the mountain, and in the darkness, Hiccup managed to make out the entrance of a cave in the side of the peak. The flock barreled into the opening, streaming into total darkness with a collective screech.

Almost immediately, Hiccup's body snapped in one direction as the Snafflefang carrying him in its claws turned, zooming into what must've been a series of tunnels that twisted and turned, jostling him with every motion. Throughout the rapid, unforgiving entrance, Hiccup managed to spot clusters of some blue-green substance, and eventually the tunnels opened up into a huge, dark chamber.

Without warning, the claws around Hiccup's shoulders released their hold. He plummeted a short drop to the floor of the chamber, smacking into the rock with a _thud._

"Ow!" Hiccup yelped, landing unfortunately on his knee where his armor wasn't as thick. He held himself up with his arms, taking in a few breaths and biting back the flash of pain. He noticed with a start how warm it was in the chamber, abnormally so for somewhere so far north. There must've been geothermal sources somewhere in the mountain—hot springs, maybe? Either way, the change in climate was welcome, and his body involuntarily shuddered as he accepted the rush of heat.

There was another shout from the sky, and Astrid landed next to Hiccup with significantly more grace, absorbing the force of her fall and rolling forward once before stopping herself with two hands. She looked up, setting her jaw in an intense scowl.

"Rude," she snarled.

"Are you alright?" Hiccup asked with just a bit of worry, reaching over to grasp her shoulder. Astrid met his eyes and placed her hand on his, offering him a small smile.

"I'm fine. For now, anyway," Astrid said, and she looked at the rest of the chamber as well as she could. It was terribly dark, but the shapes of dragons flitting through the cavern were easy enough to see. A loud draconic call echoed in the cave, immediately answered by countless similar eruptions of noise.

The sounds of beating wings came dangerously close to Hiccup and Astrid and a dragon laid one more shape on the floor, releasing the man with great care. Eret lied on the rock, breathing heavily and holding the wound on his side. His head and the thick black hair sprouting from it were marred with sweat.

"Eret!" Astrid half-shouted, and she and Hiccup both crawled over to him. The trapper nodded at them feverishly, outstretching his free hand as if to tell them to back up.

"I'm fine," he insisted, but Astrid shook her head.

"You're not fine. You're lucky that bullhook didn't kill you."

Eret grimaced and made to sit up, trying to prove that he _was _fine, but he failed miserably at it. He croaked as some phantom pain zapped through him and submitted, lying prone on the floor again. "Always hated that fucking thing," he managed, flashing a smile.

Astrid examined his wound. The bandages had loosened during their rough abduction, and while the blood from the gash had dried, it was not a pretty sight, and it was basically asking for infection since it hadn't been cleaned. Astrid's haphazard bandaging job was supposed to be temporary, but now it could barely even serve that purpose.

She looked at Hiccup, worried. "We have to do something… all of my medicine is in Stormfly's saddlebag. I don't have bandages, or herbs—"

"Let's see if we can get this guy's attention," Hiccup suggested, "If he lives here, he's got to have something."

There was a low rumble and Hiccup and Astrid both whirled around, spotting the shapes of dragons closing in on them. There was so little light that the shapes were all black, but their silhouettes were unmistakable. Eret managed a single dry chuckle from his place on the floor.

"I always imagined myself dying at a ripe old age, surrounded by riches. And maybe a woman or two half as old as me on my arm. I guess that's why they call it imagination."

"We're not going to die," Hiccup assured him, and he reached for the latch on his leg to grab Inferno. Gods, it felt good to have that weight there again. He grasped the smooth metal of the sword's hilt and yanked it from its place, clicking the ignition button and activating the blade. The sword lit up in a bright blaze of fire, suddenly illuminating the cave. The shapes of dozens of dragons filled themselves in with color, as did countless more watching from a safe distance in a series of grottos in the walls.

A Thunderclaw faced Hiccup, two beady eyes implanted in a face of greenish scales. The rounded ledge on its chin raised as the dragon lifted its head in curiosity, mesmerized eyes following Inferno's flaming blade. A smile found its way to Hiccup's face, endeared by the dragon's change in attitude. He cocked his head to Astrid, more to make sure that she was still there than anything else, and he flashed an innocent smile before turning and refocusing on the dragon.

Just past the Thunderclaw and thanks to the light of Inferno, Hiccup spotted the form of the Dragon Rider, watching cautiously while sitting on his Stormcutter's back. He'd landed at some point in the fray—perhaps he'd heard their whole conversation.

Determined, Hiccup twirled Inferno slowly between his fingers, and with his free hand he clicked the button activating the Zippleback gas on the other end of the sword. The green vapor spewed out in a cloud and Hiccup crouched into it, making sure to hold his breath as he lowered Inferno's flames to the edge of the mist, instantly igniting it. Dragons buzzed with curiosity as his scent merged with the resulting smoke, making him seem like one of their own. Carefully, Hiccup lowered the sword and offered the Thunderclaw his hand, slowly approaching the bulky dragon.

The dragon was just about to nudge forward when the Rider slid off of the Stormcutter's back, feet clapping on the floor and echoing through the chamber. The dragons filling the room instantly looked to the source of the sound and backed off, flapping away to create some space. The Thunderclaw did the same, casting another interested look at Hiccup before shuffling away and melting into the darkness. The Rider approached with his shield raised, that strange staff held just behind it in the stranger's other hand. A rattling noise filled the cavern as the Rider snuck forward, and many of the dragons surrounding them opened their maws, igniting the gases in the backs of their throats to mimic torches.

Giant, scaly, several-hundred-pound torches, but still effective. The chamber lit up enough so that he could completely see the details of the Rider's armor now, from the almost tribal strokes of paint to the black, disembodied eye holes. He couldn't even see the color of the stranger's eyes through them. It was like a real live draugr stood in front of him, a vengeful spirit creeping closer and closer to exact revenge.

Hiccup raised his sword, hoping that the Rider understood he would only use it in self-defense. Astrid stood next to him, grabbing a stray rock off of the floor and lifting it to use as a weapon if need be. Her axe was with Stormfly, wherever she was. The Rider crouched low to the ground as if he himself were a dragon, eyes never leaving him or Astrid.

"Who are you?" Hiccup asked carefully, "Look, we don't want any trouble. Please, we need to head back for our dragons. You left them back there." The Rider didn't budge, still just watching them from beside his Stormcutter. Hiccup lifted his free hand, holding it open to show that he wasn't hostile. "Our friend needs help, too. He's hurt, he's hurt really bad." Hiccup swallowed, "D-do you have any medical supplies? Anything at all?"

The Rider remained deathly still.

"Do you even understand what I'm saying?" Hiccup asked, his fuse already exhausted. Maybe the Rider didn't speak Norse. That would so be his luck, getting kidnapped by a strange dragon vigilante that he couldn't communicate with.

Suddenly, the Rider moved. Slowly, he peeled his shield away and set the staff down, opening his palm to show that he'd also been carrying a small roll of bandages in his grip. With a quick flick of his wrist, the Rider sent the roll hurtling toward Hiccup, watching as it bounced on the rock. Maybe the Rider did speak Norse after all. Or he'd noticed Eret on the floor and was offering some meager help. This stranger struck Hiccup as an observant person.

Astrid immediately dropped her rock and snatched the roll of bandages, scrambling over to Eret with desperation. Hiccup looked back for a moment and let out a small sigh of relief before turning his eyes back to the Rider. The stranger had instantly reclaimed his staff and raised his shield back into place, careful to close the small window of potentially being attacked as quickly as possible.

"Thank you… now, our dragons? W-We need to head back for them," Hiccup asked warily, holding his right hand out in front of him once more, keeping Inferno pointed to the floor.

The Rider answered almost immediately, swinging his staff in an arc and spinning it before slamming it down on the ground. With the firelight from the gathered dragons Hiccup could see several holes open up along the hook, and a rattling sound immediately hissed out from the openings. So _that _was what had made that sound. The Rider… commanded dragons with it?

There was a low roar and two new dragons flew up into the chamber from an unseen entrance, their claws wrapped around the bodies of Toothless and Stormfly.

"Astrid!" Hiccup hissed, craning his neck to watch her. She'd just finished tightly bandaging Eret's wound, expending the entire provided roll of cloth, and she looked over her shoulder at the sound of her name. Relief creased her face and she surged to her feet. The dragons let Toothless and Stormfly go on the ground and flapped away, joining the many others in the shadows.

"Stormfly!"

Both the Nadder and the Night Fury came to life at the sound of Astrid's voice, recognizing their riders. Hiccup and Astrid surged forward, and the two dragons moved to meet them halfway.

Instantly, the Dragon Rider bolted forward, raising his staff defensively. Toothless noticed and whirled completely around, baring his teeth and snarling. Stormfly mimicked him, raising her tail and priming some of her spikes. The Rider stiffened, stopping cold and cocking his head with confusion.

It seemed that the mysterious Dragon Rider had not been expecting that.

"Toothless, it's okay," Hiccup murmured, and the Night Fury slowly relaxed as Hiccup's hand caressed his neck and head. "I think we're all a little confused here."

"_What did you do to those dragons?" _the voice came from inside the Rider's mask, startling Hiccup and Astrid both. The two young adults exchanged a look.

"Nothing…?" Hiccup said, slowly.

"Dragons don't follow their captors. _What. Did. You. Do?"_

"Captors?" Hiccup repeated, "We're not… you think that we're dragon trappers?"

"Don't lie to me. I don't recognize your faces, but I know his," the Rider pointed at Eret on the ground, the gesture just as vicious as the voice rattling though the stranger's mask. "I don't enjoy aiding trappers, but I'm also not cruel like your master."

"We're not lying," Astrid snapped, "We're dragon _riders. _Drago Bludvist took us prisoner."

"We escaped when you attacked," Hiccup clarified, "We're just trying to get home."

"And where exactly is that?" the Rider growled, still unconvinced.

"Berk."

The Dragon Rider's entire demeanor changed at the mention of the island's name. His draconic posture fell away and the man held himself up with the staff, like he was halfway between standing like a normal person and crouching like a dragon and couldn't decide which was more appropriate right now. The Rider's black eye holes fell on Hiccup and stayed there, staring into his soul for several brutally long seconds.

Then, without warning, he moved forward. The Rider was fast, taking long strides to clear the distance between him and Hiccup. Toothless immediately bared his teeth in a snarl, hackles raised as the intruder closed in, but the Rider wasn't even concerned with the fierce Night Fury or Toothless' warning growl.

"_It can't be… it isn't…" _Hiccup heard the Rider muttering, apparently to himself. Toothless warbled at the sound, ears perking up in muddled confusion. The Rider's voice sounded weirdly different now, softer and more relaxed and almost unlike a man's. The stranger reached out for him, cautious yet determined. His very human hands came into view, guarded by a strange pair of bracers.

Strange armor for a strange man.

"Back away," Astrid warned. Stormfly mimicked her, hissing as a sign of caution, but the Rider continued as if he hadn't heard either of them. He was only fixed on Hiccup. Hiccup shivered and leaned back, as if the Rider's impending touch was poisonous. Inferno's light lit up his face, exposing his every last feature to the dangerously-close Dragon Rider.

Suddenly, the Rider flinched back, as if he'd seen something that scared him. Hiccup wanted to avert his eyes, to get the Dragon Rider completely out of his field of vision, but for some reason he found that he couldn't. There was something about the Rider's hidden gaze that rooted him in place.

That was when he heard something that he wouldn't have expected in a thousand years to come from this stranger. His _name._

"_Hiccup_?" the Rider croaked. The last remnants of bravado and menace behind the stranger's voice were instantly gone, and he was standing on the backs of his feet, still half-crouched, half-standing.

Hiccup and Astrid exchanged another look. Astrid looked like she didn't know what emotion she was supposed to be feeling. "How do you know him?" she asked, cautious. Hiccup returned his eyes to the Rider, his mouth suddenly feeling so dry.

The Rider lifted his hands in defense, inching them up as he reached for his helmet. Carefully, the stranger slid his mask off, revealing a narrow, soft face marked with high cheekbones. The Rider's eyes were a dark blue, and auburn hair was tied back behind the stranger's head in a long, obvious braid.

Another look at the stranger sent Hiccup reeling. The Rider wasn't a _he _at all. It was a _woman_.

"Can it be? After… after all these years?" the Rider struggled mightily to speak.

Astrid gasped softly, heart catching in her throat. The similarities were clear as day; the auburn hair, the cheekbones… even the dragons, weirdly enough. There was no mistaking the woman's identity, even if she had never so much as seen the woman before, only heard of her.

"Oh, my gods…"

Hiccup looked at Astrid, frowning, and then turned his gaze back on the Rider, too wary to keep his eyes off of her for longer than a second. _Her. _He had so many questions. "Should, uh…" Hiccup said, "Should I know you?" He looked dreadfully uncomfortable, not having seen what Astrid had apparently realized yet. Everything was moving a bit fast for him. This stranger apparently knew him, and wasn't even a man at all, like he'd originally assumed.

The woman frowned, as if remembering something. Her blue eyes filled with sadness and… regret? "No. No… it was so long ago. You were only a babe." Hiccup blinked. He looked to Astrid for support, but she was still frozen with her mouth gaping open. Her eyes managed to flick over to him, and she slightly tilted her head at him like she knew something, like she was surprised he wasn't on the same page as her.

"But a mother never forgets."

Hiccup flinched, freezing as the woman's words began to process. He turned his head back around to stare at the woman and staggered back a step, balancing his weight on his regular foot and sucking in a disbelieving breath. What this woman was implying was impossible. Because he'd never known his mother. She'd been taken from him when he was an infant.

"My mother's dead," Hiccup whispered, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. "She was carried off by dragons."

The Dragon Rider nodded, somber. "She was. And she was brought here." She gestured to the cave at large. Hiccup's eyes trailed along the Rider's form and images flickered across his mind, memories of times that he previously couldn't have remembered if he'd tried. He envisioned a slim woman much like the one standing before him, held in the muscular arms of his father. They looked down on him, warm and loving like a mother and father should be. He then recalled waking in the night to find his father sniffling by the fire, still mourning her years after her death. His mind's eye offered him another glimpse at the previous memory, and he saw how similar his mother looked to the Dragon Rider, albeit quite a bit younger.

This woman in front of him was telling the truth, there was no doubt. He couldn't even remember her face until he was actually looking at it, no more than a few feet in front of him. But he knew the stories, he knew that his father would never lie. Everyone _knew _that his mother was dead.

Except she wasn't.

"They didn't hurt you."

His mother shook her head. "No, they didn't. They were never going to hurt me."

"Because they're good," he said.

The Rider's eyes sparkled, and she started to surge forward, as if to hug Hiccup. He took another step back, still struggling to come to terms with the fact that his mother was here and _alive. _She froze at his reaction, stuck in limbo.

"Where have you been?" Hiccup asked, softly at first only for the volume of his voice to rise to a slightly more apprehensive octave as the truth dawned on him. "You've been alive all this time?"

The woman frowned now, realizing that this was not exactly a joyous reunion moment. Not at all. There was no thrill in Hiccup's face, no elation. Only disbelief, as well as the first signs of anger. "I have been. And I am filled with shame that I never came to find you sooner. This… this isn't what I was expecting when I stopped you three."

"Not what _you _expected? How do you think I'm feeling right now!?" Hiccup replied, his voice raising an octave too high. The fuse that was his latent temper suddenly ignited, and it quickly started to burn out of control. He gestured wildly at his mother, _the Dragon Rider, _and fixed his voice to a sterner, more Stoick-y tone."You're _Valka Haddock? _Everyone thinks you were eaten by dragons! But instead, you…" he struggled, "y-you're actually alive and you're some kind of dragon lady… slash… vigilante!" He struggled to spit that last part out, putting the pieces together with his mouth instead of his mind.

"Hiccup, I know what this looks like, I do—"

"It _looks _like you ran away from me and Dad to live out your own little fantasy, for starters. Where _are _we?" Hiccup interjected. He was spiraling fast—this was too much information to take on at once. He'd been completely blindsided and it showed.

"Son, if you'll just—"

"Son? Back up a second—" Hiccup snapped. He raked his hands down the length of his face. "I've spent my whole life thinking my mother is dead, and it turns out that she's—that _you're_ not!"

Hiccup placed his head in his hands, a scathing chuckle rising from the depths of his lungs. When he looked up, he tossed his arms dismissively at the air, turning his attention to Toothless' saddle. "You know what, I really don't have time for this. We need to get to Berk before Drago does. Astrid, let's move." Hiccup swung into Toothless' saddle, looking up to see Eret still sitting on the ground. He paused, not sure what to do with the trapper.

His mother—_his mother_—used that moment to strike, to sink her claws back into the conversation and keep him grounded.

"Hiccup, please, wait," Valka called. "I-I know that I've made some grave mistakes—"

Hiccup cut her off. "This isn't the time, _Mom." _Odin's missing eye, he'd never uttered a sentence like that in his entire life. "Drago's army is on his way to attack Berk, and it's my fault he even knows about our dragons in the first place." Hiccup looked back at Eret, doing his best to speak around the liquid irritation rolling off of his tongue, "Eret, you're staying here to recover."

Eret gaped at Hiccup and surged up to his rear end, sitting on the floor. He tried to stand, but clearly wasn't quite there yet, so he looked up at Hiccup from the ground. "Here? With the Dragon Rider? No way."

"You're in no shape to fly."

"That didn't stop you when we were escaping Drago's camp."

"There wasn't another choice then."

"Your wife's dragon saved my _life, _lad. I should be lying on the deck back there with a bullhook through my chest, but I'm not," Eret countered, "You'd best believe I'm going to make the most of my second chance." He was so determined when he said that. It was impressive, admittedly.

"Wife?" Valka interrupted.

Hiccup whirled on his mother, pointing emphatically at Astrid. "Mom, this is Astrid. My wife. Sorry to break the news to you that my life has gone on just fine despite the massive gaping hole you left in it when I was a baby." Hiccup turned back to face Eret and he spotted Astrid sheepishly wave at Valka from the corner of his eye. If he wasn't so preoccupied with everything else racing through his head, Hiccup might've laughed. He could imagine that wasn't how she would've wanted to be introduced to anyone in his family, much less her mother-in-law.

"Hiccup, I want another shot at Drago," Eret pleaded.

"You're hurt," Hiccup pointed out.

"A scratch," Eret insisted. He planted his feet on the ground and remarkably surged to his feet, but he was unable to mask the wince and the sharp pain that flared up his side, and he leaned to his good side to compensate.

Hiccup shook his head firmly. Commendable, but not enough to move him. "Nice try, but I'm not putting you in any more danger. You need to heal, and a battle is not the place to be doing that."

"Hiccup, please."

"I'm sorry, Eret. I've made up my mind. I'm so grateful for your help—we would still be in those cells if not for you. But you'll be safest here, away from the action. Once this is over, I'll come back, and we'll figure things out from there." Hiccup slid his prosthetic foot into the catch in Toothless' stirrup, activating the fin and preparing for takeoff.

"Wait, Hiccup—" Valka interrupted, and Hiccup scowled in annoyance. He ran a hand along his face in frustration.

"_What, _Mom?" he snapped, noticing again how foreign such a sentence sounded on his tongue.

"You can't go. You can't fight Drago."

"I don't have a choice. We need to get to Berk before his ships do, and thanks to you, we just lost all of the progress we'd made."

"No, you don't understand. He'll take your dragons."

"He's going to have to try a lot harder if he wants to take Toothless or Stormfly," Hiccup asserted, hoping in the back of his mind that she would just shut up, shut up, _shut up. _He couldn't dealwith this right now.

"He has an Alpha," Valka cut in, and Hiccup stilled and looked over his shoulder. _That _didn't sound good.

"What are you talking about?"

"He has an Alpha. A Bewilderbeast. The king of all dragons," Valka said, breathless. "He controls it, and it controls all other dragons for him. It's why I don't attack him directly anymore, Cloudjumper and I nearly died the first time—"

Hiccup looked at the Stormcutter casting its shadow over his mother. That must've been Cloudjumper. "I only attacked tonight because I saw he was on the move. I knew I could strike and free a few dragons in the time it would take him to rouse the Alpha and fight back, if he even bothered."

Hiccup looked over at Astrid, who met his eyes with equal confusion. He'd almost forgotten about her for a moment—she was still standing next to Stormfly. "I'm getting the feeling that there's a lot that I don't know," Hiccup said, turning his eyes back to his mother.

Valka nodded, practically pouting as she pleaded. "I think that goes for both of us… Hiccup, please, you don't have to like me. I don't think I would like me either if our roles were reversed. But if you fly off now, you won't stand a chance. Let me come with you. I'll share everything that I've learned and everything that I know about Drago. I'll help you defeat him."

Hiccup looked to Astrid, a silent agreement passing between them. It wasn't really a debate. If he tried, he could probably make it one, but there were more pressing matters at hand. He sighed, resigned, "Alright, fine. You can come. Quickly, please. We're racing against time, here."

Valka nodded, and without another word she whirled around and headed for her dragon. Hiccup sat in the saddle, fiddling with a few of the straps for no reason whatsoever. He both heard and felt Astrid approach him, wearing her concern on her sleeve.

"Are you going to say that I'm being unreasonable?" Hiccup asked, quietly.

Astrid shook her head, "No. I'm not going to tell you how to feel. I can't even imagine the situation you're in right now. I'm sure it's a lot to take in."

"You could say that."

Astrid looked over her shoulder. Valka likewise had her back to them, carefully tending to a Snafflefang who looked to have an injured wing. "Everything's going to be okay, Hiccup. I know that sounds a little hollow, but I believe it," she said.

"Okay," Hiccup muttered. Astrid smiled, in spite of everything. Then she yanked herself up toward him, gripping Toothless as she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, and it admittedly made him relax, if only a little.

Valka came stumbling over, carrying a leather bag under one arm and a blazing torch in her opposite hand. She passed by Hiccup and Astrid both, eyes fixed on Eret. The trapper had returned to his spot on the floor, dejected.

"You'll find everything that you need in here," Valka said, looking down at Eret as he sat on the floor. Eret looked up to meet her gaze, and without warning Valka stooped down to hand him the bag. She shoved the torch into his other hand and then stood up, pointing across the cave. "If you go that way, you'll find the tunnels up to where I live. Anything else you might need will be somewhere in there."

"Um… thanks…?" Eret mumbled.

Valka's breath hitched—she was embarrassed. "I'm sorry for leaving you behind in my mountain. But… the dragons are good company. They'll respect your boundaries for the most part." Eret looked at her with an expression that seemed to say she wasn't selling it very well, and Valka turned on her heel and walked away, eager to escape the awkwardness. She passed Astrid and Hiccup again on the way back, and he could see her eyes twitching as she fought the urge to look at him. He didn't mind, he didn't really want to look at her either.

Astrid walked away from Hiccup and over to Eret, replacing Valka in a way. Stormfly scrabbled over as well with an interested coo. The Nadder's shadow fell on her as Eret looked up, and he didn't do much more than acknowledge Astrid's presence with a nod. Stormfly squawked and approached Eret, leaning closer. Hiccup saw him tense up.

"Don't fight her," Astrid advised, "Just let her do her thing." Eret looked at Astrid and relented, sighing as he watched the Nadder sniff him from head to toe, slit-shaped nostrils rapidly expanding and compressing. Stormfly squawked approvingly, and Eret seemed to be getting an idea as he glanced at his hand.

Carefully, the trapper raised his outstretched hand. Stormfly took in a deep breath of Eret's scent and let out a quiet squawk before nuzzling forward. Eret's eyebrows shot up as he felt the warmth in her snout, and he visibly relaxed. Even Hiccup cocked an eyebrow. That had been… fast. Stormfly had always been the most social dragon he knew, but… wow.

"Thank you…" Eret said, "For, uh… for saving my life back there. I owe you one." A few other nearby dragons noticed the connection between Eret and Stormfly and started to shuffle over, curious.

"You'll get your chance to return the favor," Astrid said.

"I hope so."

"Will you be okay here? By yourself?"

Eret shrugged, "Sure. Have you forgotten who you're dealing with? There isn't a dragon alive that I can't wrangle. If they give me any trouble, I'll rough 'em up." He put on a smug smile and Astrid rolled her eyes. She grabbed onto Stormfly's saddle and climbed on.

"See you soon, Eret," she said, and Stormfly ambled away towards Hiccup and Toothless.

A few minutes later, the three riders mounted their dragons and took off in a roaring gust of wind, forcing Eret to shield his face as the tempests raged through the cavern. Before Eret could even try to protest, the Night Fury, Deadly Nadder, and Stormcutter were gone, leaving the trapper alone in a cave full of nothing but dragons.

One by one, the reptiles turned their eyes on him, a thousand sets of golden orbs flicking their attentions to the lone trapper. Instinctively, he reached for his twin swords, only to remember that they were gone, lost on Drago's ship. In that moment of clarity, he also thought better of himself. Drawing his weapons, if he'd had them, was a good way to get himself transformed into a rather large char mark on the ground. Dragons of all shapes and sizes crawled towards him, guttural grunts of curiosity filling the cavern.

Eret swallowed, holding his torch above his head and clutching the bag of supplies to his chest as he looked around at the beasts closing in on him.

"Why does this keep happening to me?"

* * *

**[1] **– If it isn't already confirmed, I propose that Inferno is made from Gronckle Iron, the special alloy that Meatlug creates in _Riders of Berk. _Since Gronckle Iron is both lighter and stronger, I'm writing it here as having a much higher melting point than traditional metals of the time, allowing it to withstand the flame of a Monstrous Nightmare and, as seen in this chapter, melt through traditional iron without melting itself.

* * *

**Alright, this one's finally done. Congrats for making it this far. So, Hiccup and Astrid have met Valka in a most unexpected fashion (and Hiccup is none too happy about it), and have left Eret behind in the mountain to heal up. But this is hardly the end of the Son of Eret's story...**

**Chapter 10, which won't be nearly as long as this one, coming on 3/6. Thanks for reading and please review!**


	10. Homeward Bound

**Hey, look at that, I'm back early again. Unfortunately this chapter is not nearly as fun or action-packed as last week's. I wish it were otherwise, but now we have to start the section of the story full of impending dread. As I recall, _Bound _started to get slow at this same point in the story too. Huh. Maybe I need to get better at writing the middle of my stories.**

**Anyway, on the menu this week: a healthy helping of Hiccup/Valka tension as Valka is characteristically nervous/Hiccup is intentionally combative, the return of the aforementioned heir just in the nick of time, and the formation of plans for the upcoming battle…**

* * *

_**10\. Homeward Bound**_

It had been awhile since Astrid had seen the sunrise from the back of a dragon. The night was at its darkest now, just minutes from daybreak. Toothless, Stormfly, and Hiccup's mom's dragon, Cloudjumper, flew fast above the clouds, racing directly southwest and embroiled in a painfully awkward silence. Hiccup and Astrid were close by, while Hiccup's mom kept her relative distance from them. She hadn't put her helmet back on, and Astrid was admittedly grateful for it. She couldn't help but look in Hiccup's mom's direction every few minutes, and the lack of a helmet made the strange woman at least feel human.

Her heart hurt for Hiccup. He was getting a lot more than he'd bargained for when she'd busted him out of his father's house to pursue her stupid assassination mission. Suddenly his mother was _alive, _and she'd stayed away for 20 years of her own accord. Astrid would've been bitter, too, were their roles switched.

So, thanks to the pervasive discomfort surrounding the entire situation, the only sounds around them were that of the dragons flapping their wings.

When daybreak arrived, that changed.

"I've always loved the sunrise from up here," Hiccup's mom said, head turned to the east. The sun was just a fraction of a tiny ball at the moment, peeking over the cloud cover and painting the dark sky with a slowly growing cone of light. Astrid squinted, feeling the increasing warmth on her skin.

She heard Hiccup grousing under his breath behind his mask, so Astrid raised her voice to answer. "It's beautiful. I don't get to see it enough from a dragon."

Hiccup's mom smiled at Astrid. "So, I suppose we should talk."

"Yes, uh…" Astrid replied, trailing off. She didn't want to finish that sentence by calling her _Hiccup's mom. _Was it bad that she couldn't even remember her name? She felt like it was bad.

"It's Valka, dear. And you're Astrid?" Hiccup's mom—Valka—said. Astrid nodded. "Where are you from?"

"Berk," Astrid said, as if it was obvious. Valka raised an eyebrow, surprised.

"Your father didn't marry you off to someone from another island?" Valka asked, directing the question at Hiccup. He didn't grace her with an answer, continuing to stare forward as he held tight onto the handlebars of Toothless' saddle. Valka and Astrid both frowned. "Who's child are you?" Valka asked next, looking to Astrid again.

"The Hofferson's."

Valka's eyebrows raised again. "Ingvar or Finn?"

"Ingvar. Uncle Finn's been dead for a while now."

"You're Edna Hofferson's baby," Valka realized. She got a faraway look in her eye. "How is she? She had only just given birth to you when… when I left."

"I'm glad the two of you have met and all, but I think we should talk about the Leviathan in the room," Hiccup interrupted, keeping his eyes pointed forward.

Valka sighed and then nodded, "First explain to me how Berk became an island of dragon people."

"I killed the Red Death," Hiccup explained, intentionally brief.

"Red Death?" Valka asked.

"That's what we started calling the queen of the dragons' nest in Helheim's Gate. She was controlling them and forcing them to raid Berk and the other islands for food," Astrid explained.

Valka looked down at her dragon's neck, nodding. "I'm not saddened to hear that that thing's gone. Cloudjumper and I went there once, years ago. I... haven't been back since."

"So, it's a pattern!" Hiccup exclaimed, voice absolutely dripping with the most derisive form of sarcasm. He turned his head to glare at his mother through the holes of his mask, green eyes pulsing with anger. "Here I was thinking that leaving me behind as a baby was an isolated incident, but in actuality you run from everything that's inconvenient for you."

Valka's brow furrowed, taking offense. "Hiccup, that's—"

"I'm just saying, you've apparently been living with a few hundred dragons for 20 years. And considering that you seem to be able to control them..." Hiccup continued, still glaring.

Valka's eyes narrowed and she raised her voice to cut him off. She looked surprisingly offended. "I don't control them. They _choose _to follow Cloudjumper and I!"

Hiccup didn't miss a beat, "Then it's still not that far of a leap to suggest that you could've led them to attack the Red Death. Probably would've saved a lot of lives on Berk and the rest of the archipelago over the last two decades. Wonder what you were doing all that time instead." Hiccup shrugged and turned his head to look forward again, the increasing sunlight reflecting off of his helmet and little shoots of his dark auburn hair peeking out the back of it.

Astrid frowned in his direction. She knew the kind of body language he employed when he was seething mad. Around her and those he was closer to, he often threw his hands into the air and ranted, his tongue laced with unrestrained sarcasm. But when he didn't want to show emotion or was uncomfortable, Hiccup always clenched and unclenched his fists when he was upset and generally stared at a wall, avoiding looking at anyone and stewing. Astrid turned her head to glance over at Valka. The older woman averted her gaze, shoulders shaking with what must've been silent sobs. For once, Astrid wasn't sure what to do. Hiccup had never really had much trouble talking about his mother. Everyone knew what had happened to her, or had at least thought they knew, and he hadn't been bothered by it. These things happened. Valka wasn't the first Viking in the archipelago to be killed by dragons, and she certainly wasn't the last.

But now that she was suddenly alive (well, not _suddenly_), that had ripped open a fault line filled with a lifetime's worth of pain and grief and longing. She hadn't _died,_ she'd left him, no matter how she dressed it up in her defense. And any semblance of happiness Hiccup could potentially feel about her being back in his life was utterly smothered as a result.

"Tell us about Drago," Hiccup said—no, ordered. Valka looked over at her son with surprise, brow wrinkling in anger, but she seemed to realize that she couldn't play the spurned mother card and refuse to answer until he showed her some respect. They were racing against the clock and a madman, and with time running out they still knew next to nothing about him.

Valka sighed and looked down at the back of Cloudjumper's neck, nodding sadly. "I don't know how much you know already, but I'll start with my part of the story. We first ran into Drago on the mainland about five, maybe six years ago, down south. He was capturing dragons and impressing soldiers for his army. I returned a second time with a force of dragons from my mountain hoping to free the ones he'd caught, or at least as many as I could. He nearly killed me. By then, he'd already found his Alpha dragon. It was still relatively small, but the power it was born with was not."

"Alpha dragon?" Astrid blurted, focusing on that particular tidbit of unnerving information. Valka had mentioned it back in her mountain, but said nothing since (though it was hardly her fault).

"Its formal name is the Bewilderbeast—an ancient species of enormous creatures; the size of a small island and the king of all dragons. It can control all of them with only its mind," Valka explained.

"What?" Hiccup half-shouted, looking away from the path ahead now. "What do you mean _it can control them?"_

"It exerts its will over dragons, overriding their own to fulfill its bidding. And it listens to Drago. That's how he controls them." Valka shivered at the memory.

Hiccup cursed, punching Toothless' saddle. The Night Fury warbled, cocking his head back to look at Hiccup with a concerned eye. "Loki's _stinking_ shit. _That's _what that thing tied to his flagship was!?" he raised his hands to his head, tightly gripping the shell of his helmet as he started rambling, "This is bad. This is really bad. This means we have no army. If we try to attack with our dragons, he'll just take them from us and kill us all. We have _no_ chance." Toothless crooned at his rider's distress, cocking his head up and to the side to look at him.

"Hiccup, just calm down for a minute, babe." Astrid held out a hand to her husband and then turned her gaze to Valka, looking at her in askance. "Is there any way to resist the Alpha? Or break its hold on a dragon?"

Valka blinked and looked slightly down, answering with a pace to her words. "Without the presence of an Alpha, most dragons either strike out on their own or follow a dragon of their choosing, generally one that they respect and trust. But when an Alpha interferes, that no longer holds up. There is one way to break the Alpha's control, but it's exceptionally hard. Only dragons that share a very close bond with a human can be swayed from the Alpha's control. I only survived that attack on Drago because I was able to get through to Cloudjumper and escape. We were both lucky to survive. I resolved to never attack Drago directly again and did what I could to free captured dragons from the trappers that he employed."

"You've been rescuing them," Astrid said. Valka nodded, managing a slight smile, but the smile faded into a frown.

"A temporary solution, if it is even one at all. No matter how many dragons I freed, there were always more that were forced into his ranks, and I couldn't risk attacking his camp again. I only did so last night because I found he was on the move when I went out to scout. I thought I could at least do some damage and free a few extra dragons while they were preoccupied."

"So, we know that some of our dragons could be able to resist the Alpha, or at least be broken free from its control," Astrid recounted.

"That won't matter. There are hundreds of dragons on Berk, and most of them don't have riders. Even if every dragon with a rider has a bond strong enough to break the Bewilderbeast's power, we'd still be terribly outnumbered. It's a losing battle," Hiccup replied.

"What about the dragons that listen to Toothless?" Astrid suggested, suddenly feeling stupid for even bringing it up. Most of the dragons living on Berk deferred to Toothless when the Night Fury was in the area. They'd long been convinced that the dragon population had chosen Toothless as their leader, at least in part as a result of the Night Fury's role in liberating them from the Red Death. What Valka had just said about dragons without the Alpha seemed to confirm that.

"No matter what their level of respect for your Night Fury, it won't beat the Alpha. All dragons share a biological imperative to recognize and follow one, so when the call goes out, they will answer."

Hiccup looked at Astrid, "We should evacuate Berk when we get there and go to our allies. If we join together with them, we might have a chance at beating Drago."

"I don't think I need to tell you how difficult that's going to be," Astrid warned.

"Perhaps you won't need to," Valka interjected, watching them both. Hiccup and Astrid both looked over at her, eyebrows raised. "Drago is the one that controls the Alpha. If you can beat him or incapacitate him, he won't be able to give it commands. We can even hide the dragons elsewhere on Berk so that they don't interfere, that way he may not be prompted to call upon the Alpha in the first place."

"Just defeating Drago won't be the end of the human part of his army, though."

"No, and that will be difficult enough on its own. But none of his generals are capable of controlling the Alpha. It obeys Drago because it was raised to fear him, but it holds no such emotions for any other of his men."

Hiccup nodded, beginning to understand. His eyes seemed to light up behind his mask, "So we take down Drago, we take his dragons. And then we send them running." He looked forward again, breathing in and out and sitting up straight. "This could work," he said confidently, "This could seriously work."

"The old Viking fallback," Astrid recalled, earning a head turn and what she thought was a smile from behind his mask. Hiccup's eyes always seemed to glow before he grinned, the smile visible in his green orbs before it was visible on his lips. It wasn't a thorough, thought-out plan, but it was an idea, and in most cases, that was enough for Hiccup.

"Let's go," he said, and he leaned forward against Toothless' saddle to pick up speed.

* * *

A few hours later, the Isle of Berk appeared on the horizon, the tall peak of Raven Point taking shape first as the island's highest point. Bit by bit, the rest of the island and the village within started to become visible from high above. It was late morning, the sun was shining, and as far as they could tell, Drago's army was nowhere to be seen.

"Let's get ready to head down," Hiccup called over his shoulder.

Valka shook, terrible nerves rearing their ugly head as she responded. "Hiccup, I'm not sure that I can do this."

That nearly sent Hiccup's head spinning completely around. He turned his entire upper body, looking in shock at his mother. _"What? _What do you mean, you're not sure you can do this?"

Valka curled up inside of herself, rambling as her ears began to burn. "I don't mean that I can't help you. I can. I just… how will I be received? The long-lost wife of the Chief, alive and well and having never returned despite clearly being capable of doing so." Hiccup exchanged a look with Astrid. "You're angry with me, and rightfully so, but what will your father say? He needs to be focusing on Drago, and I fear that he won't be able to if I reveal myself."

"He'll be ecstatic that you're alive," Hiccup countered.

"He'll be distracted. His focus will be everywhere that it shouldn't be," Valka corrected. Her grip on her staff tightened. "I'll spend my time up at Raven Point. Cloudjumper and I can hide, and no one will see us. When the time comes, we can join the attack however we're needed."

Hiccup met Astrid's eyes again. She shrugged, and Hiccup took another glance at Berk—specifically, the western woods beyond the village. Then he glanced back at Astrid and Valka, expression unreadable thanks to his helmet.

"What?" Valka blurted out.

"I have a better idea," he said, and he grabbed onto the handlebars again, leaning to the left and starting to guide Toothless down. "Follow me."

Toothless rolled and dove down, immediately followed by Astrid and Stormfly. Valka lingered in the air some more until Cloudjumper grunted at her, and she relented. "Alright, Cloudjumper, let's see what this is about," she mumbled, and Cloudjumper dove after the other two dragons. Hiccup led the way, pulling up before they could crash into the sea and keeping Toothless low as they flew a slight distance away from Berk, looping back around once they were surely out of the village's sight. They zoomed towards the rocky shallows and the western woods atop the cliffs, ascending until they just barely cleared the treetops.

It had been a long time since Valka had seen Berk's forests. In the first few years after her disappearance, she'd flown back to Berk under the cover of darkness, always debating returning or checking in on her lost son and husband. She'd resisted each time, and eventually stopped going altogether, the almost-reunions tearing at her heart. She'd found that she was better off not returning at all. Hiccup was better off without his mother, too, she'd told herself.

Considering that he appeared to hate her now that he knew her true fate, clearly, she'd been wrong. She'd been foolish to think he would fall at her feet from sheer happiness upon meeting her. There was a gorge twenty years wide between them—neither really knew the other because of what she'd done. He'd even taken after her, and the shame she now felt for leaving him to fend for himself all those years ago weighed heavy on her anew.

And none of this made seeing the familiar evergreens of Berk's timberlands lift her spirits. Despite being part of a place that she'd spent the first half of her life living in, it no longer felt like home. She no longer felt welcome. She felt like an intruder, trespassing on land belonging to a people that were not her own.

Valka saw the clearing from the treetops just before Hiccup and Toothless dove into it. Boy and dragon instantly disappeared from view, dipping below the trees and out of sight. Astrid and Stormfly promptly followed, no hesitation in their dive. Cloudjumper grunted, indicating that there was something up ahead, and as soon as they crested over the last treetop, the huge Stormcutter spiraled in a loop and trailed after the other two dragons.

Valka looked over her dragon's head and saw the little cove sprawl out before her, gasping with awe as she eyed the bluffs enclosing the inlet. Spindly trees scaled their heights, making the place difficult to reach. A lake teemed with life on one side, offering a source of food. It was perfect. Cloudjumper glided in wide circles around the cove, four great wings beating intermittently to control their descent. He landed a short distance from Toothless and Stormfly, as if even he knew the tension between his rider and her son and wanted to avoid stoking it at all costs.

She quickly followed, using her staff to scale down the side of Cloudjumper's body. She turned in a circle to give the cove another once-over as she walked in their direction. "What is this place?" she marveled.

"This is where I met Toothless," Hiccup answered. He slid his helmet off, creasing his brow and frowning before correcting himself, "Well, actually, I met him down the pass a short walk from here, but this is where we really got to know each other." Toothless babbled, tongue lolling around across his teeth. Valka cocked her head at the dragon, taking a few bold steps closer.

"May I?" Valka asked Hiccup, gesturing to Toothless with a hint of childlike excitement.

Hiccup appraised her with a quizzical expression. "Uh… sure?"

Valka smiled softly and nodded, dropping down to her knees to examine the Night Fury. "You're a handsome fellow, aren't you?" she said, directing the question to Toothless. The black dragon agreed, prattling excitedly and accepting Valka's enthusiastic touch. She opened his mouth to examine his teeth. "Healthy gums, clean teeth—" Toothless' teeth slid into their sockets within his gums and Valka startled, eyes widening in amazement, "and they're retractable! How astounding!" She laughed a little, only to look over and catch Hiccup staring at her. His blank expression startled something inside her and Valka averted her eyes to the ground, speaking with a hint of embarrassment. "Forgive me, I… I've never seen a Night Fury for myself."

Hiccup winced, like she'd wounded him. Valka's eyebrows knitted together. "What's wrong?"

"Hiccup's just spent a lot of time studying Toothless himself," Astrid interjected, hands on her hips and speaking very matter-of-factly. "I'm sure he'd lend you his notes sometime, right, Hiccup?"

Hiccup flinched and quickly nodded, agreeing in a way that felt a tad suspicious. "Oh, y-yeah, for sure."

Valka offered a slight smile and she started to stroke Toothless' chin and neck. Toothless leaned into her touch, purring. As she pulled her hand away, he snapped up to his feet and bounded over to Cloudjumper, suddenly overwhelmed with a new curiosity. Stormfly naturally followed, and the Stormcutter appraised both smaller dragons with a cocked head and curious expression. Toothless and Stormfly started relentlessly working together to get the large dragon out of his shell, hopping circles around Cloudjumper and doing their best to act endearing.

Valka laughed out loud as Toothless found his way underneath Cloudjumper's raised wing, shrouding himself in the shade and standing still as a statue as if the Stormcutter couldn't see him. As her amusement quieted, she took another look around the cove, admiring its features.

"This will do nicely," she said, "Cloudjumper and I will camp here, and we can coordinate the plan away from the village."

Hiccup frowned at her. He'd proposed this place, but it still hurt to hear her decision. "You're really not going to come back to Berk?"

Valka shook her head, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "I cannot risk what my return will do to your father. Drago needs to be our first priority for the foreseeable future. When this is over, and we've won… we'll revisit the topic."

"You're making a mistake," Hiccup said, holding his mother's gaze with smoldering green eyes held back only by his own exhaustion. Valka tried to smile, curling her lips in an unhappy, perhaps regretful way.

"I've made a lot of them in my life," she replied, "I'm sorry, Hiccup."

Hiccup sighed, turning his back and rubbing his eyes. After several seconds of silence, he looked up at Astrid and then turned back around to face his mother. "Okay," he said simply, and then he turned his attention to Toothless, "Let's go, bud."

Toothless looked up from playing with Stormfly and Cloudjumper and padded over without question, warbling as he nudged Hiccup's side and allowed the young man to climb onto his back. Astrid mimicked them, mounting Stormfly and getting her ready to fly.

"We'll be back to check on you tonight," Hiccup promised, and without another word he pulled his helmet down and clicked his tongue, commanding Toothless to fly.

The two dragons took to the air, disappearing from Valka's sight and heading back to the village.

* * *

All it took to see the village was a slight lift above the treetops. The Great Hall came into view first, with the houses dotting the village quickly following suit. Toothless beat his wings heavily and let out a huge roar, announcing their return just as they passed over the edge of the forest. People looked up all at once and shouting erupted through the village, hands and eyes pointing at the familiar shapes of black and blue darting over the town.

Hiccup and Astrid crossed the village and immediately leaned into a turn, flying another semicircle around the outer edge of the island to pass over the Dragon Race start line and the training arena. Hiccup looked up to see his old house, watching as the front door swung open and the familiar form of his father stepped out into the sunlight.

He sucked in a deep, preparative breath, bracing himself as he turned Toothless toward the Haddock house's lawn. No big deal, he'd only just escaped imprisonment on a warship and promptly learned that his father's wife was alive. Below, a swarm of Vikings bustled along on the path up to the hill, all of them clamoring to be at the front of the pack to witness the return of the heir and his wife. Toothless landed on the apex of the hill, Stormfly touching down beside him. Hiccup cast a quick glance at Astrid and slid off of his dragon's back, removing his helmet and stashing it in Toothless' saddle bag. Astrid likewise jumped down to the ground, brushing her hands on her furs. As soon as she looked up again, two familiar shapes were sprinting straight for her, catching her by surprise.

Edna Hofferson crashed into her, arms wrapping tightly around her. Ingvar followed, wrapping his muscular arms around both of his girls. "You're alright," Edna nearly sobbed, "Thank all the gods, my baby, you're alright. We were so worried about you!" Astrid hugged them back, genuine anxiety finally manifesting on her face.

Hiccup himself felt the ground tremble and heard the thunderous footsteps just before he looked over. Toothless let out a nervous warble and Hiccup swiveled his head to the left, only seeing the outline of a massive shape before his father slammed his hands into his shoulders. The force knocked Hiccup back a few paces, though Stoick's hands never left his son's shoulders as he held him steady and sent the young man a glare that burned through his soul.

"What were you thinking!?" Stoick shouted.

"Oh, gods," Hiccup murmured, his breath leaving him in a single rush, "Dad, I'm so sorry, y-you were right—"

Stoick surged forward and trapped him in a tight hug, squeezing his mass into Hiccup's considerably less-bulky body. After a few short seconds he pulled back, returning his hands to Hiccup's shoulders and holding him with a grip that was equally intense for all different reasons. "Are you alright? Let me look at you—did that monster hurt you?" Stoick scanned him with frantic eyes.

"Y-You're not mad?"

Stoick blinked. "Oh, Hiccup, I'm _furious!" _he growled, containing his rage with gritted teeth and taut shoulders. "But that doesn't matter. You're both alright. We went looking for you, Gobber and I… we ran across Drago's fleet. I feared the worst."

Hiccup raised a hand and clasped his father's arm, trembling as his voice threatened to break. "Dad, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have disobeyed you, I should have listened and stayed here. I should have trusted your word about Drago, but I didn't, and now he knows all about Berk because of me. He's coming."

Stoick nodded somberly. "I know. We guessed he was heading for Berk based on the direction his army was sailing. We were about to set out again to come and rescue you two. Now that you're back, we can focus all of our efforts on preparing for Drago's arrival. We'll beat him back."

Hiccup gave a rueful shake of his head, frowning hard. "No, we won't. Whatever plan you think you have in place, it's toast."

Stoick flinched, eyes narrowing in displeasure, "Hiccup—"

"Just… humor me," Hiccup begged, showing Stoick his hand and sighing. "Call a Council meeting. You're going to want to hear what Drago's coming at us with, because believe me—" he gestured to Berk in general, its basic fortifications from the days of the raids already in place, "_this_ isn't adequate."

Stoick held his son's gaze, and then looked over at Astrid. Edna was still holding her daughter's hands, though she and Ingvar had released her from their sudden combined embrace. Astrid wore a hard look, no opposition in her features. Whatever Hiccup was going on about, it was serious.

"Alright," Stoick conceded, "I'll put out the call."

The village scrambled as the word passed, cancelling the impending rescue mission and instead summoning the Berk Council as well as a few others. Things moved in a blur around Hiccup, culminating in him finding himself standing at the head of the war table in the Great Hall. He brushed his hands over it as people entered, seven generations of history running under his fingertips. The table had been crafted from the finest oak countless years ago, used for every Council meeting and every piece of official business done on Berk ever since. It had seen many wars and disputes, from the War of Settlement to the three-hundred-year-long Dragon War and the skirmishes of the Berserker and Outcast Wars.

The place he was standing was also normally the place for the Chief. That knowledge was not lost on him. He was certain that it wasn't lost on everyone else in the room, either. His father had deferred to him, sitting in the nearest chair to Hiccup's right. Astrid sat in the same seat but on the left, and the rest of the Berk Council filled the rest of the table in wherever they pleased. In addition to the usual Council members, Hiccup and Astrid had gathered the rest of the so-called "A-Team": Fishlegs, Ruff and Tuff, and Snotlout.

"Let's get started," Hiccup began, psyching himself up, "First things first: Drago's army is huge, I won't gloss over that. We were unfortunately captured during our mission and imprisoned on Drago's flagship, but not before we got a few good looks at his army. From what we could tell, he's been all over the world and recruited people from all different cultures to fill his ranks. He's also captured countless numbers of dragons and impressed them into his service through force. They will follow his orders one way or another."

"Can we not convince his dragons to come to our side? The dragons on this island listen to Toothless, after all," said Phlegma the Fierce, forearms braced against the armrests of her chair.

"That's what I thought we might be able to do, too, but it turns out that's not the case," Hiccup replied. He gestured erratically with his hands, nervously trying to articulate his point without spilling the whole truth. Without revealing Astrid's attempt on Drago's life. Without revealing Valka. "Before we were captured, we saw evidence of an enormous creature dwelling in the water below the fleet, chained to Drago's flagship. We guessed that it was a general of sorts for his dragon army, just as a working theory. As it turns out, this dragon was even larger than we thought, at least the size of Berk, if not bigger."

"So, he's got a big dragon," Snotlout said dumbly, "We've fought big dragons before."

"Not this big. This thing… it makes the Red Death look like a Terrible Terror," Hiccup answered. He paused and watched the Berk Council exchange worried looks, an air of grave seriousness suddenly weighing down on the empty Great Hall. "This thing that he has is an Alpha species. It controls all dragons and breaks their will. And since Drago controls it, he also controls the dragons."

Stoick stared at him, wavering between convinced and uncertain. "How did you learn this?"

"We watched it force its will upon a dragon that was unfortunate enough to be caught in its sights. It was too easy for that thing, and it won't be any harder for it to do the same thing to every dragon on Berk," Hiccup lied. Technically, it wasn't a lie. He hadn't physically seen this Bewilderbeast do what it could allegedly do, but he had no reason to believe that his mother would lie about something like this. Even if he didn't trust the woman. At all. The alternative was blindly going to war with Drago Bludvist and his army, and that was a risk far too dangerous to take in light of what had happened in just the last few days.

"So, it's like a king," Fishlegs piped up, inquisitively stroking his half-grown, braided mustache and blonde stubble.

"Pretty much, yeah. A king of dragons," Hiccup agreed.

"So, this guy's going to take all of our dragons out of the fight, just like that?" Ruffnut asked. Hiccup nodded.

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Spitelout raved, pounding his fist on the table.

"We do what we've done for 300 years. We fight. We just can't have our dragons with us when we do," Astrid cut in, suddenly standing up from her chair and sliding it across the floor. She stepped up beside her husband, lowering her hands to the fine wood of the table and dragging her finger along its smooth surface. "We send the dragons away before the battle, making sure to keep Drago or anyone in his army from seeing them. We can put them in the western woods, get a few to watch from a distance while the rest take shelter. If Drago doesn't know where the dragons are, he can't use the Alpha to take control of them. As far as he'll be concerned, they're gone, or maybe they were never even here to begin with and everything he heard was false. Then, we focus on beating his army head-on. They may have the numbers, but we have the heart. We're Vikings, after all."

The members of the Berk Council exchanged looks and nodded agreeably, roused by Astrid's words. Most of them smiled at one another, the promise of a return to their glory days becoming rather appealing. Stoick even looked upon her with proud, glowing eyes.

Hiccup, as much as he loved her, admittedly felt weak in her shadow. She was a born leader, much unlike him. She continued, growing tougher with each word, "Drago's proud. He'll be out there on the field of battle, not cowering in his ship. That's our ticket. We do whatever it takes to take him out of the fight, and then we summon the dragons to finish the job."

This time, there were murmurs of uncertainty. "It's a good idea, lass, and I believe in its merit," Gobber answered, "but what about the chain of command? Armies don't fall apart because one man dies."

The older members of the council begrudgingly agreed, grunting and muttering all the way. Astrid, though, wasn't fazed. She nodded. "No, they don't," she replied, "and bringing the rest of that army down with Drago out of the mix won't be easy. But he's the only one capable of controlling the Alpha. For whatever reason, it fears him, and no one else. If Drago can't give it commands, it's just another dragon."

Stoick pivoted in his chair, examining the faces of the other Council members. No opposition appeared to be growing. They were in the dark, and Hiccup and Astrid had at least a slight glimpse into their hidden enemy.

"Any questions?" Hiccup asked, swallowing as the room remained silent.

Tuffnut suddenly shot to his feet. "I'M WITH THEM, WHO ELSE?"

Everyone stared at Tuffnut, arms raised high above his head, and said nothing. The Thorston man didn't drop his arms, unflinchingly confident. One by one, the rest of the Council and the other members of the A-Team turned their heads and offered their vote.

"Aye."

"Aye."

"Aye."

The vote was unanimous, each man or woman at the table agreeing that the plan was for the best. Stoick took charge from there, dishing out orders as he always did. "Spread this new plan to everyone in the village. Double the watch and see to it that the watchtowers are manned all hours of the day. Instruct all patrols to proceed with the utmost caution. We can't afford to have any of our dragons spotted if this plan is to work. All reports will come to either me, Hiccup, or Astrid."

A round of 'aye, Chief' went up through the hall, and Stoick nodded as he fixed a hard look on his face. "We're approaching a dark day for Berk. We must be vigilant. Let's show this bastard what happens when he messes with Berk and her people!"

Vikings beat their fists on the table, raising their voices in a rousing cry. Chairs were pushed out of place and the Berk Council filtered out of the room to spread the word, until Stoick was the only one left in the Great Hall alongside Hiccup and Astrid.

"Are you sure you're okay with this plan, Dad?" Hiccup asked, leaning over the table. Stoick walked around the corner of the war table and mimicked him, splaying his huge hands out on the wood. There were many little notches in the wood, scars gained from 300 years of raging Vikings using it every day. "I realize that I'm asking the village to hinder themselves here. It's… not exactly an easy sell."

"It's not ideal," Stoick admitted, curling his lips in so that his mustache touched his beard, "But with this new information that we have, hiding the dragons away is a necessity."

"It's not too late to contact some of our allies. You know that Bertha and Mogadon would send help immediately," Hiccup said.

Stoick gave a mild shake of his head. "I can't trouble them with this news, not yet. They'd no doubt want a shot at Drago after all these years, but if their memory of that night is anything like mine, I know they'd still rather forget it ever happened than confront it again." A wry smile split the connection between Stoick's mustache and beard again, and his green eyes ignited with mirth. "Besides, five years of living beside dragons hasn't made us soft. We are every bit as strong on our own as we once were. A madman with a god complex will not be our undoing."

Hiccup looked over to Astrid, motioning toward the door with his head. She nodded at him and they walked around the corner of the table, drawing closer to Stoick. "We're going to go walk the village and help out where we can, okay?"

Stoick nodded carefully. "Very well. Welcome back, you two. I'm glad you're safe."

"Thanks, Dad."

Hiccup headed for the massive doors, Astrid striding along beside him. There was an urgency in his pace, though he guarded it well as they left Stoick behind. He wrapped his fingers around the door and yanked, wincing as the ancient wood scraped against the floor, and held it open so that Astrid could walk out before him. As soon as she was past, he was following her out and tugging the door closed.

As soon as the Great Hall door shut, Hiccup keeled over, pressing his hands into his knees and groaning as if he were ill. Alarmed, Astrid was instantly grabbing at his shoulder.

"Thor strike me dead," Hiccup muttered as her fingers wrapped around his bicep. He tilted his head towards Astrid, his lips twisting into a weak frown. "I can't keep this secret from him," he breathed. He'd never been good at keeping secrets from his father, with the exception of Toothless (that didn't really count, since at the time his friendship with the dragon had been equal to high treason and he couldn't afford to have let it slip. His other great secrets throughout his life, such as the long-standing infatuation with Astrid that he'd developed as a child, had barely been secrets at all to Stoick. His father just had a way of seeing through him).

"I know," Astrid tried to comfort him, shifting her hand so that she was rubbing her knuckles into his back. "It's hard. But you have to try. These are Valka's wishes, and we have to respect them."

Hiccup gulped and managed a feverish nod, "I know we do. And I'm going to try. But… he needs to know."

"And he will. Just not yet," Astrid said. "I promise." She started twisting a lock of his hair into a tight little braid, her soft touch enough to relax him. Hiccup tightened his gut and stood up straight, and Astrid's hands slithered away back to her sides. He nodded again, surer of himself this time.

"Okay."

Astrid grabbed his hand and wove her fingers in with his, smiling lightly as he met her eyes. "Now, let's head down and lend a few hands. Maybe some work will take your mind off of things."

Hiccup consented, keen to shift his thoughts to literally anything else. "Lead the way." They padded down the great staircase, slowly but surely merging into the rest of the busy village and offering their help to anyone who needed it.

* * *

**I hope that didn't suck. Next week we're going to step away from the main story for a chapter I consider to be crucial before jumping back to the main track.**

**Please consider sending in a review! This chapter was not my favorite, but I would really love to hear feedback on it and the rest of the story so far! Tell me everything you like, dislike, would like clarification on, anything you want! I'm happy to answer any and all inquiries. Otherwise, thanks so much for reading, and I'll see you all again next week, when we turn our attentions to a different character who has a part to play and a new friend to make...**


	11. The Tale of Eret Eretson

**ANNOUNCEMENT: I've decided to try recruiting another beta reader or two for this story. The readers I'm working with at this point in time are very busy and I'd like to be able to have more than one perspective on future chapters. If anyone reading this is interested in such a thing, shoot me a PM! I would personally prefer to work with readers who have also written a decent amount themselves. Please note that the site has apparently shut down email notifications for PMs, so it's possible I won't be able to respond in the most timely manner because I don't get emails telling me that I have a new message anymore.**

**With that out of the way, this week on _Ghosts_: it's all about Eret! I took the liberty of creating my own original backstory for the Son of Eret, and I hope you all like the unique take. The first half of this chapter glosses over that backstory with a pivotal scene from the distant past before jumping back to the present for what is personally one of my favorite parts that I've written for this thing.**

**Thanks for reading, and do please review this chapter! Likes, dislikes, predictions, personal thoughts, I want to hear it all. You guys rock, and I'll see you all again next week.**

* * *

_**11\. The Tale of Eret Eretson**_

_It was cold, Eret thought as he trudged through the streets of the city. His fur coat was old and thin, a glorified rag he'd swiped from a merchant's stall in the autumn before the temperature had really dropped. He should've stolen something heavier. Warmer._

_Then again, he tended to focus on stealing the more immediate necessities like food. That was what he needed, a hot meal to keep him from dying in the night. He'd head back to his alley after he found something to eat and try to curl up. He'd survived cold nights before, and he'd survive this one._

_That was his plan, anyway. The world had a way of ignoring one's plans, he'd learned that the hard way. Judging by the hazy clouds making their way across the sky, there would be snow tonight. Snow changed the game, made it harder to stay warm. He'd have to find a way to sleep indoors. Maybe he could pickpocket someone, steal enough coin to buy a room for the evening and wait out the weather. He'd managed it twice before, and both nights had been so heavenly that he had only left at the latest possible minute when the innkeeper nearly broke down the door and forced him to admit that he couldn't afford a second night._

_Eret lifted his hands to his mouth and breathed on them, groaning as his breath became visible in the cold. Kids his age were supposed to enjoy that sort of thing. But not him. Not since his mum had left, leaving him with no home and no family. His father had never been in the picture. All this told him was that his breath was warmer than the rest of the world and served as a constant physical reminder of the impending hardships of the night._

_He reached the market streets again. This was his favorite place to steal from. Traders came in from both the land and the sea, bringing goods from faraway places. They had everything anyone could ever want, from fine clothes and fine foods to live animals and gorgeous weapons. Eret had never been able to afford much of anything at any of the stalls, as much as he wanted them, so he'd almost always had to resort to stealing them._

_The market was also the most dangerous place to steal during the day. But with the sun's set in the west, the merchants had for the most part closed up their stalls and headed to the taverns. It was holiday season, which meant the ports were full of ships from everywhere but here, and the taverns were full to the brim. Eret had been in some of them a few times—not to drink, just to watch. To see how other, more fortunate people lived their lives. The places were always full of gross men, and tonight it would be mostly sailors that had been at sea for months on end, but there were also more than a few women in the establishments, some of them barmaids, some of them travelers… some of them whores. Like his mum. A lot of those women were really beautiful. He'd had his fair share of private moments in the alleyway where his mind wandered, and he imagined them. They weren't even always sexual, which was such a new sense to his young head. Sometimes he just imagined a kind woman holding his head against her breast, singing softly and telling him everything would be all right._

_That was his most ridiculous fantasy, really. Aside from those fleeting moments, he never dared to think anything like it was possible. Twelve years old, and he'd spent his whole life either living in a dingy hovel in the center of town or—after his mum had run off—in the corners of streets. If things were ever going to look up, they would've by now._

_Eret blinked and glanced back and forth as he crept down the street, eyeing several stalls and wondering which one might be the most promising. There were a surprising number of stalls stocked full of clothes, thick, fine furs and tunics with intricate embroideries more expensive than anything Eret would likely own in his entire life. He didn't reach for any of them; someone was walking in his direction. Eret kept moving and did what he always did when someone passed him at night, smiled lightly and kept going. The stranger passed without noticing him and Eret continued, groaning as his stomach barked at him._

_He deemed the trip through the market a failure and walked around the corner, stopping in his tracks as he spotted the baker's building. He'd been here before; it was the site of some of his greatest lifts. The baker also knew him, through a few unfortunate moments where he'd been spotted stealing food. Eret didn't come near the shop during the day anymore because of it._

_But now that the moon was out…_

_His growling belly overwhelmed him again and Eret meandered forward, taking care to step as quietly as he could. The sound of footsteps would carry on the empty street. He was able to identify the smell as something meaty, and it made his mouth water._

_Eret peeked over the open window of the shop and checked to make sure no one was inside. The room was silent, so he tugged himself over the ledge and rolled into the storeroom. It was warm enough thanks to the oven in the next room and could be even warmer if not for the open window. Maybe he could sleep here, even, so long as the baker didn't show up. Eret felt his way along the wall until he reached the shelves of storage baskets. Without hesitation, he dug through the first one he could reach, his dirty fingers snagging a roll of bread. He ate it indiscriminately, tearing through the bread with his teeth and conceding a purr. Good heavens, there was _meat _in this one._

_He only bothered to chew until he could force the mangled food down his throat, eager to satiate his hunger. As soon as the roll was going down his throat, he swiped another one from the basket—judging by the texture, they were likely day-old unsold wares, but they might as well have been fresh out of the oven for Eret. There was enough in the basket to tide himself over until this time tomorrow, if he could manage to take it all._

_Of course, that wasn't to be. He was tearing through a fourth roll when he heard the footsteps, and within two seconds the door to the storeroom was swinging open._

"Oi!" _a gruff voice shouted, "What're you doing there?"_

_Eret seized and looked up, mouth full and a half-eaten roll clutched in his fingers. A large man was standing in the doorway, glaring down at him with the fire of a thousand suns. _The baker.

"_You again! You thievin' varmint!" the baker recognized him and dropped what he was carrying, a heavy-looking barrel of liquid that sloshed around as it spun awkwardly. Water. Or perhaps ale. It didn't matter, because in another instant, the baker was sprinting at Eret._

_Eret's feet nearly fell out from under him as he whirled around and bolted back the way he'd come, bolting out the window. He knew the baker couldn't fit, but he didn't let that slow him down. He blazed away from the building back towards the market street, hearing the door to the shop slam open with a startling _crack.

"_Guards! Thief! He's been stealin' from my shop!" Eret looked over his shoulder to see the baker's shape flailing, flagging down a horde of soldiers further down the opposite direction. The men turned their heads and Eret refocused his attention on the road in front of him. He weaved around a corner, but not before he heard the soldiers shouting and starting to give chase. He'd need to lose them, fast._

_He zigged and zagged through the streets, picking corners that he was familiar with and trying to outfox the guards. He passed another patrol during his getaway, hearing their suspicious grunting as he went, and then heard someone else shout "Shoplifter!" to send the extra men after him. He looked over his shoulder and spotted the patrol of six men he'd just passed, with almost a dozen more lagging behind that must've been the first group that the baker had called for._

_Son of a half-troll. He'd been caught before and had to run away, but there had never been so many men after him at one time. There must've been more guards than usual stationed across the city on account of the increased population for the winter holidays. Normally, they gave up on chasing thieves rather easily. It just wasn't worth the energy. Tonight, they didn't seem to care about that._

_Eret weaved through his usual escape routes, but couldn't shake the men, so he kept running, going further and further until he finally came upon the docks. They were full to the brim with vessels, and the harbor itself wasn't an actual escape route, but there was no alternative. The men were on his tail behind him and separating the harbor from the buildings was a ridiculously large street with no natural or man-made cover he could conceivably use. So, without deliberating for more than a moment and then scolding himself for his stupidity, he bolted towards the harbor._

_The men came blistering out of the alleyway before he could disappear behind a ship. "He's headin' for the docks!" one of them shouted, and Eret swore colorfully. If he'd had a parental figure in his life, they probably would've slapped him for his tongue._

_Eret bolted down the left path as the docks forked, hearing the crash of boots against the old wooden bridges. The ships that he passed were large and tall, and he didn't have time to climb aboard any of them without being spotted doing so, so Eret kept running, knowing that he'd eventually run out of dock if he couldn't find a ship._

_He ended up stopping after another few minutes of running. The harbor was huge, but the men hadn't yet given up their chase. They were doggedly following him, and Eret couldn't help but wonder why. Sure, he was a criminal, but only a poor shoplifter just trying to feed himself. Surely there were worse offenders on the street. If he went to jail, he'd likely die, and as much as his life sucked, he still preferred being alive in the first place. He shivered with a cold sweat, heaving in an attempt to catch his breath._

_And then a voice called out to him from a ship._

"_Hey!" the voice squeaked, "Are you okay?"_

_Eret glanced to his left a few ships down at the sound of the voice, realizing it was a young boy, maybe a year younger than him. The boy was standing on the deck of a curious-looking sloop that was low to the ground and hugging the wooden dock. His hair was a dirty blonde and his face was fatter than Eret's angular, malnourished jaw._

"He went this way!" _the shouting burst into Eret's ears. He flinched as he looked over his shoulder. The guards were getting closer. This was his best chance._

_Eret's head swiveled back around to face the boy, who was wearing a quizzical look on his well-fed face. Without a word, Eret vaulted over the edge of the deck, leaping from the dock to the ship in one bound. He stumbled when he landed, the strange boy careening out of his way to avoid being tackled._

"_Hey! What—"_

"_I need you to hide me," Eret interrupted, pleading. He hoped the kid saw how desperate he was. He didn't like jumping on a strange foreigner's ship either, but he did things he didn't like doing in order to survive every day. This was no exception. "Please," he added. The boy's face shifted, and he looked past him as more shouts flew down the dock beside them._

"_Okay," the kid said. He pointed to a hatch in the deck, a small trap door closing it off. The boy scampered over and pulled the door open, gesturing to the dark tunnel underneath. "Hide here until they go," the boy insisted._

_Normally, Eret would've run in the opposite direction at such a suggestion. Strange people and young boys didn't mix well with dark tunnels. But in this instance, the unknown was far less threatening to him than the known—what would happen to him if the guards got him. So, Eret dove into the tunnel, holding onto the ladder hidden in the shaft and letting the odd boy close the trap door above him._

_He waited for several minutes, his breath quieting but not slowing. He heard intermittent footsteps echoing on the deck above him, and he prayed that the boy wasn't betraying him, sticking him somewhere where he couldn't lose track of him as he flagged down the guards and led them right to him. He'd never been much for religion, but he'd gotten out of enough scrapes by the skin of his teeth to consider that something beyond his understanding might be looking out for him._

_When the trapdoor finally opened again, he was certain that that was what had happened, that he'd offered himself up on a silver platter by begging the help of a stranger. Eret bared his teeth as a shadow melted into view above him, as if that would discourage someone much larger from reaching down and grabbing him. But the silhouette wasn't large at all, maybe even an inch or two smaller than Eret himself was._

_The boy still flinched back, like Eret was some sort of feral beast. "H-hey, you can calm down now. Those guards are gone," he said, and instantly, Eret relaxed. "You can come up now. I promise, you're safe." There didn't appear to be any malice, any ulterior motive, in the kid's eyes. Against his better judgment, Eret decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Slowly, Eret climbed up the ladder, crawling out of the trap door and immediately looking over his shoulder to see if he'd been tricked. When he saw no one else on board, he collapsed onto his back and wriggled out of the hatch, letting the boy shut the door again._

"_Why were they chasing you?" the boy asked carefully._

_Eret shrugged. He didn't need to tell this boy anything. He made a show of being exhausted and catching his breath._

_The kid didn't appreciate that. "I'm not stupid." That sent one of Eret's eyebrows up. The boy's face tightened, and he crossed his arms over his chest in what was probably his best attempt to look intimidating. Perhaps he'd picked up the gesture from a parent. "They were chasing you for a reason. What did you do?"_

_Eret figured he wasn't getting out of this. The kid had saved him, so perhaps he owed him the truth, if absolutely nothing else. "I stole some food," he blurted nonchalantly._

_The boy flinched. "Why'd you do that?" he asked after a pause._

_Why did anyone ever steal food? Wasn't it obvious? This boy and his stupid well-fed heart were so naïve. He'd probably never struggled or wanted in his life._

"_Hungry," Eret said._

_The boy's eyes brightened. "Hungry? We have food here. Hang on a second…" he went galloping off across the deck, choosing between a handful of crates arranged on the side of the ship. For a moment, Eret considered jumping back onto the docks and fleeing, but he pushed down the urge. The guards may have given up their chase, but that didn't mean their search was over. They could spot him and recognize him, and then all of this would have been for nothing._

_The boy hobbled back, carrying a sack of something in his little fingers. "Here you go! Berries, from the north! They're really sweet!" The kid untied the small sack and handed it over to Eret, who peered inside and saw that there were in fact, berries, bluer than the open sea. He palmed one, inspecting it suspiciously before glancing at the boy's trusting eyes and slowly ingesting it. He chewed carefully and swallowed the berry, waiting to suddenly be afflicted by some hidden poison inside them. When no seizure or vomiting or other horrible sign of death came, he ate another, and then another, then another, until the entire sack was emptied completely. The little boy was right, the berries _were _sweet, possibly the sweetest thing Eret had ever eaten. Well, since that pie that he'd stolen off the baker's window last year. He needed to stop going by that shop altogether, he got caught there more than anywhere else._

"_Good?" the boy asked obliviously. Eret answered with a feverish nod, licking his fingertips in an effort to get the last of the sweet juices. "My Da got them from some town further up the coast in the north with the money he got from his work."_

"_Work?" Eret inquired, hoping for some elaboration. He smacked his lips as he swallowed the last berry._

"_Yeah! My Da's a dragon trapper," the boy gushed. Eret crooked his eyebrow, confused. Dragons? Those weren't real. The kid must be pulling his leg. "The best one alive, too!" he added, eyes practically shining with admiration._

"_Dragons?" Eret repeated. The boy didn't seem to pick up on his distrust and nodded._

"_Yep! Da says they're pretty rare this far south, so I guess you've never seen one, but they're everywhere up north and out east. He and his crew trap them for money and then sell them to people. He makes a lot of money, too! I'm gonna be just like him when I get older, except I'll be better!" Eret almost had the gall to laugh. It would've been a good laugh, though. He was getting a kick out of the boy's enthusiasm. But there was also a creeping sense of jealousy slowly trickling through him. This boy had a father who loved him, presumably. Eret had never met his father—the only thing he knew about him was that his name was also Eret, and that his mother didn't care for the man. According to her, he'd taken off in the night on a ship. Eret had always found it easier to believe that his father had simply died, which had made it easier to take the Eretson name after his mother outright abandoned him._

"_Sounds like fun," Eret mumbled._

_The boy frowned at him. It was about the first negative emotion Eret had seen from him, surprisingly. Eret had to wonder what was going on in the kid's head. He was kind of rubbing his amazing seafaring life in his face._

"_You should come with us."_

_Eret did a double take. "What?"_

_The kid smiled again. "Yeah! There isn't anyone else my age on the crew, so it gets boring having no one to play with when we're sailing. We get to see all these cool places, and we always have plenty of food to go around. Plus, my Da would like to have an extra pair of hands to help out. He's always groaning about not having enough workers."_

_That probably meant he'd be used as unpaid labor, not that Eret cared. There must've been beds on the ship, maybe at the bottom of that hatch he'd been hiding in. A warm bed, a life of adventure on the sea… those two things had never been more than a fantasy in his years on the streets. His whole life had been nothing but struggle. Maybe working on a dragon trapping ship (apparently that was a real line of work) could be his ticket out of this town, his chance to actually make something more of himself than a common thief and a beggar._

_He didn't have anyone waiting on him to come home, at least. That was for certain._

_The boy's face deflated. His unruly hair fell over his eyes when he looked at his feet, so he peeked up at Eret through the strands. "I mean, that is if your family would let you."_

"_Screw my family," Eret blurted. The boy flinched, looking at him with an appalled expression, and Eret corrected himself in the nicest way he could. "What I mean is… I don't have any family. They're, uh… they're gone."_

_The boy pouted. "Oh. I'm sorry."_

_Eret shrugged, replying bluntly. "It is what it is." The boy didn't look super convinced that he was okay with… well, everything, but he didn't speak up about it. "Can I really stay?" Eret asked, hoping that this weird boy wouldn't pull his offer upon learning he was a homeless orphan. Well, maybe not technically orphaned, but he was alone. That counted as orphan in Eret's personal book._

_The boy nodded. "Yeah. My Da won't be back until the morning, he's out there celebrating the holiday, but I know he'll be okay with you joining us." Something like relief crashed into Eret. "What's your name?" the boy added, careful._

"_Eret."_

_The boy flashed a small smile. "I'm Ug. It's nice to meet you, Eret."_

_Eret finally felt a smile grace his face. A genuine one, not like the false, endearingly meek grins he employed to try and pity people out of their coin. "Nice to meet you, too, Ug."_

_Ugg showed him around the ship for the rest of the night, presenting the ballistae that the crew used to shoot nets and catch dragons with, as well as explaining the ship's peculiar structure intended for speed. He taught him the different parts of the vessel, and explained a handful of common dragon species that he'd seen on his travels with his Da. Some of it was overwhelming, but Eret committed the information to memory with an admirable grit._

_When morning came and he met Ug's father, the kind-but-admittedly-hungover sailor was glad to keep him on board as an extra hand. The rest of the crew returned from whatever wild celebrations (and judging by how some of them talked, other, more intimate ones) had transpired the night before. The morning came to a close, and the trapping vessel slithered out of the port toward the open sea._

_Somewhere, deep down, when the salty sea wind blew in his face and he helped unfurl the sail, Eret began to feel like things were finally starting to look up._

* * *

Dragons had always been his strong suit.

Well, _trapping _dragons, anyway. The whole _befriending _dragons thing? Not so much.

He understood the creatures for the most part, having memorized the differing behavioral patterns of many common species and how one could best capture and transport them over more than a decade of working in trapping. He'd had to commit all that information to memory years ago if he wanted to strike out on his own and work as a professional dragon trapper. If he wanted to become the _best _dragon trapper, the finest dragon wrangler alive.

None of that knowledge was really helping him at the moment.

He'd only sat in that chamber they arrived in for a few minutes before he'd staggered to his feet and stumbled his way around. If he was going to be stuck here, he figured that he might as well try to learn his surroundings. The Dragon Rider had been honest about the dragons. Once they familiarized themselves with his scent (or at least that's what he thought they were doing), they'd left him alone. After performing some first aid on himself and then wandering through the tunnels, he eventually discovered the mouth of a cave that opened in the side of the mountain. Now, he was resting on the ledge at the cave's opening and checking out the island. It was a beautiful sight, actually. The island was littered with mountains, and the snow coating them had yet to melt, so the remote isle was left looking like some kind of winter wonderland. The sun was also strong overhead, giving him some much-needed light.

He was still kind of mad that Hiccup and Astrid and the Dragon Rider had left him alone in this mountain. The _Dragon Rider's _mountain. Who, by the way, was _Hiccup's mother? _It really was a small world. From what Eret had been able to gather, they'd had no idea, so it was just as much a shock to them as it was to him. Hiccup hadn't seemed happy about the revelation, which was kind of weird and also not weird at the same time.

Eret sympathized with the kid. If his mother had left him when he was a kid (she had, actually) and then come back into his life after pretending to be dead for the entirety of it (that was much less likely to happen, at least), he'd have been pretty upset, too. They'd just been through some serious shit, and now a long-lost family member had thrown herself into the mix?

His side started hurting again, requiring Eret to clutch his right hand around the gash. At least the Dragon Rider had given him the necessary medical supplies to treat his wounds. He'd taken a hot blade to his side and cauterized the gash, rubbed a special salve on it, and rebandaged himself after they'd left on their dragons. The stinging he was dealing with was probably from the salve, and the contact of his palm against the bandages only really served to dull that stinging a little. He wanted to peel some of the gauze back and glance at the wounds, but he knew that that would only make things worse. He wouldn't be all patched up in a day.

Speaking of wounds… Eret looked down at his chest, eyeing the tiny section of charred flesh peeking out from beneath his fur vest. Slowly, he slid the collar of his vest down, exposing the skin underneath to the fresh air. Now that he had some actual light to work with, he got a good look at the severity of the burn. He'd known full well that it would scar, that it would mark him for the rest of his life, but the sight of the brand in broad daylight was another thing entirely. It was the emblem of Drago's army, seared into his flesh like he was a piece of cattle, like he was property.

It was the mark of a slave, because that's what he'd been to Drago. He supposed that slaves weren't actually paid, though. But at this point, did it really matter? One way or another, Drago owned him. He'd maimed and trapped and sold dragons into Drago's army for years, all for a monthly, measly sack of coin.

And one of the creatures had _saved his life _in exchange.

The main thing Eret noticed about the mountain was absolutely alive with dragons. There were probably more of them hiding out inside it than he would ever see, and he'd felt the gaze of several while he'd been wandering around. They must've trusted that he wouldn't try to hurt them, so they didn't approach. Or perhaps they saw he was injured and knew he wasn't capable of doing so anyway. Still, the place was the ultimate stock for Drago's army, and that was exactly why it needed to be kept safe. He understood this Dragon Rider's mission now. He—no, _she—_had been a nuisance to Eret for a long time, periodically robbing him of his quarry and the money they would've made him. Not exactly how he would've fought against a person like Drago, but at least she was fighting. He could find some respect for that within him.

He hoped Hiccup and Astrid were alright. That they'd stay alright. Drago's army would reach Berk within a day or two, maybe three if the Rider's attack had been severe enough to slow them that much. Hiccup and Astrid were confident that they'd be able to stand against him, but what if they couldn't? What if Drago defeated them? He'd kill all of them to get what he wanted from them, and Eret knew how Vikings were. They had… stubbornness issues.

And Hiccup's mother had been mumbling something about an Alpha dragon. That couldn't be good, whatever it was. One would think that a dragon literally called the _Alpha _would, if nothing else, drastically decrease Berk's chance of repelling the warlord and his army.

Eret flinched as he heard the sounds of dragons again behind him. He looked over his shoulder to peer into the tunnel at his back, scrutinizing the darkness and making out the silhouettes of a few shapes near the exit.

The long, patterned head of a Windgnasher slithered out of the dark, eyes blinking curiously. A Snafflefang wandered out next, lumbering into the light with a low moan and an equally wary look in its eyes.

"Well, go on. Get. Nothing to see here," Eret shooed them, flicking his wrist to get the point across. The pair of dragons averted their eyes and spread their wings, passing him by and then quietly flapping off of the ledge to disappear from sight. The reach of their wings invaded his personal space, so Eret folded in on himself to avoid their touch.

Once they were gone, he rolled his eyes and tried to refocus on the landscape, wallowing in his own boredom. The pain in his side continued to prickle, an ever-constant reminder of just how close he'd been to death not even eight hours ago. For about the tenth time today, he found himself thankful to be still drawing breath.

The tunnel behind him echoed suddenly, the dull _clink _of a rock being kicked across the ground reverberating off of the dark walls. Eret looked over his shoulder again, seeing the rock roll leisurely into place at the tunnel's exit.

"Who's—" he started, but he was unexpectedly cut off by a flash of golden eyes. It actually didn't scare him as much as he'd thought it would. In the three seconds between seeing the rock roll along across the ground, he'd worried that someone had tailed them to the mountain, and that he was now the only thing protecting the dragons inside. The presence of the dragon was much more welcome.

After all, dragons, as dangerous as they were, could be predicted. There were patterns in their behaviors, in their responses to stimuli. It was people that scared Eret the most. There were no patterns with people, no end to their capacity for cruelty and greed.

The creature huddled inside the tunnel seemed to light up as it opened its eyes, two spheres of bold, deep yellow dotted with curious, black pupils. Eret could see its shape; the animal's form was unusually flat, though it was obviously some kind of dragon.

Interest piqued, Eret twirled his body around in the dirt, making to stand. The dragon immediately staggered back, blinking as its golden irises flaring with a flicker of fear, or perhaps distrust. Probably not the most outlandish emotion, actually. He _was _formerly one of Drago's trappers.

"Hey, hey, it's okay…" Eret said, showing the cowering creature his empty hands. "I won't hurt you."

The dragon's eyes rounded again, assessing him with a critical stare as if the reptile could see his many sins written all over him. Paws scrabbled across the rocky floor as the dragon warily approached, slowly but surely slithering into the light at the end of the tunnel.

The flash of deep, striking dark blue scales rooted Eret to his place, arms lowering slightly in surprise. He couldn't help but relax as the Thunderdrum inched further out into the sunlight, never averting that cautious stare from him. That was why he hadn't been able to guess at the shape—he very rarely saw Thunderdrums and had never captured one himself. They tended to flee deep below the surface when a ship came too close, and the sea caves they often made their dens in would be suicide to try and get in and out of.

But he did recognize this one, as well as the winding scars around its eye.

"It's you," Eret said. A smile snuck its way onto his face without his consent, and he made an amused snicker, "Are you stalking me, or something?" he quipped. The Thunderdrum blinked at him, emotionless, and an air of embarrassment surrounded Eret. He was really speaking to a dragon. A creature that couldn't speak back. Not in his language, anyway.

The dragon kept watching him, softening the longer its golden eyes remained fixed on him. "So, uh… what can I help you with?" Eret asked, desperate to fill the void of silence. Internally, he scorned himself. _Idiot. _What was he, a trader looking to haggle with a customer?

"You're welcome to take a load off on the cliff with me. It's… it's a lovely view," Eret said next. He gestured to the ground beside him, drawing the Thunderdrum's attention. When the dragon didn't move at all, Eret took a cautious step forward. The dragon took an equally cautious step back, slightly baring its teeth in warning.

"It's okay, it's okay," Eret said again, showing it his empty hands again. His eyes found the vicious scars marring the side of the dragon's head, frowning at the image of the gashes that had been blackened with dried blood. Once again, the warm sunlight allowed him to take a good look, letting Eret see the scars in much stronger detail than he'd been able to during his brief meeting with the dragon last night. The marks would never heal; the best the beast could hope for was that they'd fade with time. They were more than the usual scrapes and scratches one would find on a wild dragon, gloriously gained from grappling with other wild beasts for something like food or a mate. These marks were the stain that humanity had left on it, a creature whose only crime in life was likely having the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It wasn't right, and neither was the fact that Eret himself had been on the side of things that had given this dragon those scars.

"I've been learning a lot about dragons lately. Things that I never thought I'd know about you guys… namely, that you might not be that bad after all." Eret said. There he went, talking to a dragon _again_. He couldn't bear to stop himself, though. It was immensely therapeutic. "I wish it was the same for us humans, unfortunately the good ones are pretty few and far between. But we're there, so I guess that counts for something, right?"

The Thunderdrum blinked.

Eret pulled the collar of his vest back, showing off the charred flesh of his brand. This time, the dragon exhaled, a short, hot breeze blanketing Eret's skin as the Thunderdrum's eyes widened. "Yeah, me, too," Eret said, showing the bandaged gash on his side next. The dragon's eyes followed his hands, the curiosity in its eyes continuing to grow. "Hurt like Hel, both of 'em. I'm guessing it didn't feel too good on your end either."

Eret realized that he was mere inches from the dragon. He'd kept closing in without noticing, and the Thunderdrum hadn't backed away or showed its teeth again. That sent a boost of confidence welling up in his chest. He could do this, he could do this, he could do this…

Eret offered his hand, wincing as the Thunderdrum flinched. _Please don't eat my hand off, _he caught himself thinking.

"You don't gotta trust me, but I would appreciate it if you considered letting me try to make up for some of the bad stuff that I've done," Eret said, unintentionally smirking. The dragon didn't seem convinced.

What was it that Hiccup had said? _It's not a one-way deal. If you want them to trust you, you have to trust them._

Eret closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he continued to hold his hand out in front of him, about a foot from the Thunderdrum's head (and consequently, two full rows of very many, very sharp teeth). Then, he shifted his head away, averting his eyes and putting the onus on the dragon to either rip his arm off or give him a chance.

Hel, he really hoped it would be the latter. He didn't need to add another injury to the list, not when there was no one around to help him this time.

He breathed in, waiting as he stared into the blackness behind his own eyelids, fingers outstretched and dangling in front of the dragon. He heard the dragon draw a heavy, rumbling breath, followed by nothing but silence.

And then suddenly, he felt the smooth texture of scales. Eret's head snapped back around, eyes shooting open in surprise as he took in the sight in front of him. The Thunderdrum had nudged its head into his palm, just like Astrid's Nadder had done before they'd left.

The beast opened its eyes, perhaps noticing that Eret was watching it. A low croon slipped from the sea dragon and it shuffled back, allowing Eret to turn his hand around and examine it. The feeling the contact had given him; the hard yet smooth scales and the underlying warmth beneath them, it was nothing short of incredible.

"So, I guess that's that," Eret said dumbly. The Thunderdrum snorted, averting its eyes as if the dragon was embarrassed for him. Feeling bold, Eret approached the Thunderdrum again, finding that it didn't flinch away. Taking another look at the dragon's scars, he kneeled by the side of the dragon's head, taking a cautionary look into the dragon's visible eye.

Slowly, he reached his fingers toward the wounds, his fingertips just grazing the dried, congealed blood. Instantly, the Thunderdrum recoiled with a hiss, scampering a few quick steps away and turning two incensed eyes on the trapper.

"It's okay, it's alright!" Eret fretted, again showing the dragon his empty hands. He took in a deep breath, gently shutting his eyes in the process. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."

Eret opened his eyes again, watching the Thunderdrum. The dragon grunted quietly and ambled closer, settling close to Eret once more. Trying a second time, Eret grazed the scars with his fingertips, and he felt the dragon tense and start to pull away. He locked eyes with the Thunderdrum, and after a few seconds of pause it relaxed again, trusting him to continue touching its wounds.

Eret smiled and nodded, returning his focus to the scars. He'd been able to tell a few things about them just by looking, but now that he was up close and personal with the dragon, the lacerations seemed to spill their whole blood-spattered story to him. They must've been so deep when they were fresh, cutting through the hard scales and into the skin. The cluster of scales that had grown back—or tried to, at least—was cracked and incomplete, so much so that they would never truly cover up the skin again.

Drago never killed the dragons that were delivered to him. Eret had used to think that he was generous in that way; in actuality, it was anything but. The dragons that proved easy to control remained healthy as long as they remained subservient. The most rebellious dragons, on the other hand, were often starved and maimed until they submitted. It seemed that the Thunderdrum had fallen into that category. Too proud to go down without a fight. The wounds it had been left with were deep and brutal, serving as a reminder of what would happen if it continued to resist.

Gods only knew what kind of weapon had been brandished against it. Upon further inspection, the scars trailed down its entire body, not quite as deep as the gashes near the Thunderdrum's left eye, but still no doubt a source of trauma. Based on the shapes of the scabs, Eret guessed that it had been multiple weapons, perhaps several knives or similarly sharp blades. Maybe a glaive for the cuts near the dragon's eye.

It must've been so painful.

"You poor, ugly beast…" Eret muttered. The Thunderdrum gave a low moan, as if agreeing with him. "I did this, one way or another. Because of people like me, Drago got to keep hurting dragons like you, all because he wants power. I should've done something sooner. If only I'd had the stones to. I'm nothing but a coward."

Eret hung his head, fingers still gently pressed against the Thunderdrum's scars. The sea dragon snarled, a distorted grumble echoing out of its cavernous gullet. Eret tilted his head up, watching as the dragon cocked its head in the direction of the ledge Eret had been sitting on. The ridge faced the southwest, the open sea extending beyond the island and disappearing over the horizon.

Eret knew the maps. Somewhere that way was Berk and her people, awaiting a threat that would stop at nothing to wipe them off the face of the world. He couldn't just stand by and wait, knowing the level of danger Hiccup and Astrid were putting themselves in. The only reason he'd escaped Drago's ship in the first place was because of them. If they hadn't been there with him, he'd have died fighting Drago.

Astrid's Nadder had saved his life. He had to at least try and return the favor, while he still could.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Eret asked, shifting his gaze back down to the dragon at his side. The Thunderdrum held his stare for several seconds before answering with a strong growl, more fervor than before in the beast's powerful voice. A grin cracked across Eret's face.

"Whaddya say we go get that bastard back, together?" The trapper held out his hand to the Thunderdrum now, beckoning the dragon closer. The beast turned to face him fully, appraising him with another one of those damned stares, and then without warning, powered forward to knock Eret's legs out from under him.

Eret fell forward onto the Thunderdrum's back, vision flushing with blue as he tried to right himself. The dragon barely gave him a second to whirl around before breaking into a run, sprinting for the edge of the ledge.

Eret lifted his head just in time. "What are you—woah!" Eret writhed around on the dragon's back, snaring his legs around the sides of the dragon's flat body. The Thunderdrum leaped off of the ridge and Eret felt his rear leave the dragon's back. He instantly looked for some kind of handhold and settled for the horn extending from the beast's nose and up atop its head, leaning forward and latching both of his hands around to hold himself steady.

The Thunderdrum tilted into a dive, spreading its long wings as the wind howled around it. Eret screamed, his knuckles whiter than snow as he held on. The dragon caught the gusts flowing past it, pivoting so that it was now flying straight and over the mountains dotting the island. Eret flattened, his belly pressing against the dragon's back now, and he grimaced as his side flared up again.

"You cheeky beast," he panted, "what was that for?"

The Thunderdrum gnashed its teeth together once.

Eret finally looked up, leaning halfway to his stomach so that he couldn't lose his grip on the dragon's horn. The wind sent his mop of black hair whipping back, the cold stinging his face. He squinted against the powerful breeze, taking a quick glance down at the dragon beneath him and the speckled, peak-laden earth that was so much more so.

He was flying. _They were flying!_

"You crazy dragon! You could've killed me, you know that?" Eret shouted above the loud winds, exaggerating how upset he was. He wanted to laugh but managed to keep it inside, instead settling for a thrilled whoop.

The Thunderdrum _scoffed, _as if to say, 'But I didn't'. It flapped its wings once, generating another burst of thrust to keep itself level. Eret glanced down at his legs again, taking a quick look ahead and then squeezing his left leg into the dragon's flank. The Thunderdrum promptly tilted to the left, increasing the angle of its turn as Eret pressed a bit harder and then decreasing as he relaxed.

Impressed, Eret did the same with his right leg, silently urging the dragon to turn to the right as he dug his leg into its side. He kept pressing, causing the Thunderdrum to fly a large circle around the island. Eret took in the sight with an awestruck gasp, spotting small packs of dragons flitting back and forth across the snowy island, diving between various caves to limit the amount of time they could be seen.

The island was a sanctuary.

And the only place in the world that was anything like it was in grave danger.

Eret turned his head to the southwest, taking a quick look to the sky to guess the position of the sun. It was late morning—they didn't have a ton of time, but they could make it. If Drago took Berk, he would eventually find his way here. He was already fairly close to the island in the first place, it wasn't a stretch to think that he might return to the area, especially if he believed the Dragon Rider was here.

He couldn't stand by and do nothing, not when he had a dragon beneath him and had lost people he cared about to that monster. Ug had been his family, the one who had lured him into dragon trapping and made his life worth something. When he marched off the deck of his ship and delivered his last batch of dragons to Drago, he'd never thought to say goodbye. He'd never expected that to be the last time he ever saw his friend. He would have vengeance. He would avenge his crew.

Eret fastened his hand around the Thunderdrum's horn, confidently this time. The dragon detected the change in his mood and grunted, tilting the front of its head up as if to address him.

"Let's get going, big fella. There's a battle coming, and we're late to the party," Eret said. He pressed his leg into the dragon's flank, holding it there until they were facing southwest. The Thunderdrum flapped its wings, catching the wind and starting to fly away from the island.

"I feel like I should tell you..." Eret said as the dragon sped up and made hearing more difficult, "the name's Eret!"

The Thunderdrum made a few successive snarls, a few of its jagged teeth scraping against each other in the process.

"Right. I'm not even going to try and pronounce that," Eret said.

The Thunderdrum flapped its wings again and suddenly opened its mouth, its front side expanding before it unleashed a deafening blast. The air rippled as the scream tore through it, shattering the very sky in front of them. Eret smiled, it was as good a battle cry as he could ever muster.

"You know, I have a feeling we're going to be good friends," Eret said. He squeezed both of his knees against the dragon's flanks, inspiring it to speed up even more. The wind howled in Eret's ears as the Thunderdrum flapped along, and he couldn't stop himself from offering an encouraging whoop to the beast, "Come on!"

As he melted into the indescribable experience of flight, Eret failed to notice that the pain in his side was gone.


	12. Family Bonding

**In which Hiccup continues to be boar-headed and stubborn, very much to his own detriment, and Astrid gets to know her mother-in-law.**

* * *

_**12\. Family Bonding**_

The night was a persistent, impenetrable black. A chilling wind streamed through the cove, flickering the tongues of a fire. It was small, offering little more than enough light to see most of the cove by a dim glow. Its warmth was welcome, yet unnoticeable to anyone outside of the cove's vicinity. One would have to comb through miles of forest specifically looking just to even notice it. With the village preparing for an attack, no one would ever know about the masked stranger in the woods.

The masked stranger who was supposed to be dead, that is.

Valka laid her staff in her lap, absently smoothing her palms over the sturdy wooden shaft. Her helmet sat at her side, matching her distinctive set of armor. Cloudjumper was curled up by the flickering fire, snoring deeply at a slow, consistent rhythm. Every now and then, the flame would waver in the breeze, or a fish would surface in the pond, surrounding Valka with the tranquil sounds of a place teeming with life.

Soon, the sky buzzed with the sound of a few pairs of beating wings, leading Valka to turn her attention from her staff to the night sky. Two shapes quickly hurtled to the ground; a Night Fury and a Nadder, by the looks of it. Both dragons landed with a _thump_ and a gust of wind ricocheted across the grass as each beast came to a stop, carrying the silhouettes of two young Vikings on their backs.

"Good evening," Valka greeted, for lack of anything better to say. Hiccup barely acknowledged her from behind his mask, swinging off of Toothless without a word. Astrid leaped off of Stormfly's back, the edges of an axe peeking out from behind her frame, the weapon strapped tight to her back.

"Evening, Valka," Astrid answered, smiling.

"How is Berk?"

"Just fine. Preparing for Drago, like we planned," Hiccup interjected, avoiding Valka's gaze.

"And your father?" Valka asked warily. Astrid frowned at the older woman's expression. Her decision to stay hidden from Berk had become a contentious one, unsurprisingly. She still cared, though. Astrid could see it in her eyes. She cared enough to ask about her lost husband, even if she couldn't bring herself to go find the answer herself. She was just afraid, and too set in her ways to face that fear.

"He's… Dad," Hiccup replied, still avoiding Valka's eyes. He remained parked by Toothless' side. Valka nodded somberly, disappointed that her son wasn't willing to divulge anything more. Astrid narrowed her eyes at him, though he didn't seem to notice.

"Are you two hungry?" Valka inquired, gesturing to the ring of rocks around her little fire. A few long sticks were embedded in the ground, each skewering the body of a recently cooked fish. "I wasn't sure you'd be coming by, but I took the liberty of catching a few extra just in case."

"I'm alright, but I don't think Hiccup's eaten. Babe?" Astrid looked over her shoulder, where Hiccup was fiddling with Toothless' saddle, absently tugging on the straps as if to tighten them. He was clearly attempting to appear busy, hoping to just be a wallflower while his wife and long-lost mother chatted.

Hiccup let one of the saddle's straps fall from his fingers, finally sighing in resignation. "Yeah, I'll try some," he conceded, walking away from Toothless. The Night Fury took his departure as a signal that he was free to go, so he immediately approached Cloudjumper with just as much curiosity as earlier. The Stormcutter snorted, rolling its large eyes before engaging in a grumbled sort of conversation with the jet-black dragon.

Hiccup stayed close to Astrid's side as they approached Valka's fire, ripping one of the stakes out of the ground and examining the fish. He sat on the ground next to the flame, so Astrid took the spot immediately next to him. She felt her stomach grimace quietly, thankfully not too deprived of food. She'd been eating very carefully ever since she'd learned about the baby, consuming things that she knew would be easy to hold down. She hadn't suffered another bout of morning sickness, not with Hiccup around, anyway, and she needed to keep that record if she wanted to hold onto her secret. She would not be sidelined from the impending war because she was currently carrying a tiny little life inside of her. She was too strong and too stubborn for that.

That didn't change the fact that she _really _wanted to eat one of the fish Valka had made, though. It was funny, one of her few complaints about Berk was that there was so much _fish _in everyone's diet. The lack of diversity was atrocious; fish for breakfast, fish for lunch, fish for dinner. Maybe some mutton or an egg here and there, but not often. After twenty years, it was starting to get old. She'd still eat fish, of course—not because she truly wanted to, but because it was all that there was most of the time. There were always fish out there ripe for catching and eating. The same could not be said of livestock, which took time and care to produce any meat out of.

But she also really didn't need to vomit up the fish and be questioned. Sure, neither Hiccup nor Valka would probably jump to pregnancy as the first reason for her mishap, but the possibility was there and the whole thing was still a situation that she just wanted to avoid. So, she ignored the fact that Hiccup was eating in front of her and it was making her hungry for _something._

That lasted about three seconds, because the second Hiccup began chewing, he made a noise that Astrid hadn't heard since the time she nearly killed him with raw meat in one of her mother's stew recipes. It made her feel a little better about not eating anything that Valka was offering. Judging by her husband's reaction, it wasn't a very pleasurable experience.

Hiccup reached into his mouth and plucked a piece of undercooked fish off of his tongue, dangling it front of him and frowning. "Well, I found something you two have in common," he said, "Neither of you are winning any awards for your cooking."

Astrid balled up her fist and punched his shoulder, mildly insulted. In spite of himself, Hiccup broke a wide grin and his previously cold demeanor gave way to a bout of muffled laughter. A smirk tugged at the corner of Valka's lips, and she allowed herself to chuckle as well.

"I mean, I thought Astrid couldn't cook, but _this…" _Hiccup went on, throwing an exaggerated stare at the undercooked fish in his hand and earning more laughs.

"It was the best I could do on such short notice!" Valka defended, outright grinning now.

"Thor, then I'd hate to see what you can do with a week to prepare!" Hiccup guffawed. Drawn over by the noise, Toothless glanced at the stakes with the fish, hungrily licking his lips. The Night Fury opened his maw and carefully bit down on an upright fish, dragging the stake out of the ground so that he could completely close his jaws around the meat. Upon tasting it, Toothless recoiled and spit the fish out, its sleek, skinned body now covered in slimy slobber.

"See, the dragon agrees. And he eats these things _raw,_" Hiccup added. Toothless shook his head and backed away, tossing Valka a look that must've said _I am not impressed, _because Valka mouthed a very obvious _sorry _at the Night Fury as he trotted away and returned to Stormfly and Cloudjumper.

The three adults shared some more laughter, which inevitably calmed and slowed to a stop. The silence that followed was punishingly awkward. Somehow, there was just nothing to talk about. Hiccup didn't truly want to even be here in the first place, checking in with his absentee, vigilante, very-much-not-deadmother. Astrid had had to make him come with her.

Valka's eyes drifted down, unintentionally focusing on the gleaming prosthetic where his foot was supposed to be. She looked back up to her son, who was avoiding her gaze entirely. He'd set the abysmal fish down now, and he was whispering something to Astrid that made her smile.

"What happened to your leg?" Valka finally asked, so reluctant that it showed on her face. She was absolutely _starving_ for conversation, to get _something_ out of the man standing before her that had once been her little baby boy. Astrid froze, blue eyes flicking over in Valka's direction with surprise. Hiccup paused for a moment as well before a scowl overtook his features and moved his head to face her. Once again, he averted his eyes from her, muttering.

"Oh, you noticed," he said dryly, visibly annoyed.

Valka flinched, taken aback. She quickly tried to compose herself, "Of course I noticed, I just… I didn't want to strike a nerve, not when there was so much happening at once."

"So why now?"

Valka's eyes shifted diagonally to point at the ground, the older woman rubbing the shaft of her quarterstaff with nervous hands. "Well, I want to try to get to know you. You're my son."

"Funny how that matters now, but it never did for twenty years," Hiccup scowled. Astrid cringed. Things had been so nice for just a moment there, bantering about Valka's horrible cooking, but suddenly everything was painful again. Hiccup's personal wounds involving his mother were suddenly rubbed raw, determined to rear their ugly head yet again and ruin the moment.

"It always mattered," Valka protested, "There's so much I have to tell you, to explain. What I did was wrong, I'll not deny that. But I had my reasons."

"Because you love that dragon more than you loved me."

Valka's eyes snapped up, going wide with disbelief. When she spoke, it was like someone had stuck a knife in her back, the utter shock that Hiccup could say such a thing to her making her entire body go rigid, _"What?"_

"Just admit it," Hiccup snapped, "You hate Berk, and when that dragon took you away, it was the perfect opportunity. Everyone thinks you're dead, and you get to live this grand life of secrecy, _far _away from all of your inconvenient Viking problems."

"Hiccup, that isn't it at _all_—"

"Then what is it?" Hiccup interrupted, the scowl on his face seemingly never-ending by now. He was oozing pure Stoick. He surged to his feet now, standing over his mother with only the little fire keeping them apart. The flames cast a seething shadow over his face, making his anger appear ten times as strong. "Because you keep saying that, but you sure aren't doing much of anything to prove it's not the case, so what am I supposed to think?" Before Valka could say anything more, he just snickered, a scornful, exasperated snort that saw him whirling around on his feet and whistling at Toothless. The Night Fury suddenly stood at attention and bounded over, sounding a rueful bay as he carefully approached. It was clear he'd heard every word.

"Let's go, bud," Hiccup said, petting the dragon a few times before reaching around to climb into the saddle.

"Where are you going?" Valka raised her voice, rising to her feet now as well. Astrid mirrored her, standing stock still and remaining painfully silent. This wasn't her battle, even if Hiccup was losing said battle with crippling efficiency.

"Home," Hiccup replied curtly, "I've made it twenty years without you, and I don't need you now that you're in my life all of a sudden. Once this is over, you can go back up north and forget I ever existed. It shouldn't be too hard to do it again."

Hiccup fixed himself in the saddle, snapping Toothless' prosthetic fin into action with a click of the pedal. He didn't look back as the Night Fury took off, melting into the darkness with ease as rider and dragon headed for the village.

Several moments of silence followed Hiccup's departure. Astrid was paradoxically too uncomfortable to leave, and one look at the roiling emotions plaguing Valka's features rooted her to the ground. Once again, the only sound filling the cove became that of the flickering fire, the wind causing the tendrils of flame to bend and dance.

The firelight reflected off of Valka's narrow face, gleaming in her dark blue eyes and accenting her high cheekbones. The very same kind as Hiccup's. She was really starting to see the resemblance now, as the dragon woman brooded and seemingly leaned against her staff for support.

"I wanted to come back," Valka murmured finally, steadily lifting her head to look at Astrid. "I did. But I feared what Stoick would do, what the village would do when they learned the truth. It scared me so much that I stayed away, running as far as I could for so many years. And when it came time for me to justify my actions to myself, I thought of Hiccup. I convinced myself that he would be better off… he wouldn't have a dragon-loving mother and a dragon-hating father pulling him in opposite directions. There's not been a day that's gone by that I haven't wondered what he was like, if he was still small and sickly or if he was strong and brave. I wondered what his face looked like, whether he got his features from me or from Stoick. But I never went looking for him. And now that I know him… now that he knows me… I fear I've hurt him forever."

Astrid paused, thinking. "He isn't usually like this," she said eventually, "He grew up labeled as the bane of Berk, a clumsy boy who wasn't anything that a Viking should be, and he never had a mother to protect him from that. Seeing you… I think it reminds him of everything he went through back then, and he's telling himself that all of that could've been avoided, and that all of it happened because you didn't care."

"Perhaps he is right," Valka said, quaking as she glanced at her feet. She looked back up at Astrid, a curious gaze running down the young woman's body. "Do _you_ love him?"

"Of course I do," Astrid said, just a little defensive. She was fairly sure that Valka hadn't meant disrespect—that she hadn't really been asking _'did you marry my son for politics or for love?'_, but if she had meant it that way… well, it wouldn't have been the first time she'd been asked the question. It wasn't often that a groom truly had a say in who he married, much less a bride.

Valka smiled slightly. "That makes me happy to hear. How long have you been married?"

"About six months, give or take."

Valka nodded, "I can see why Hiccup likes you. I can see that you are strong, and trustworthy. I hope that you keep him grounded."

"I try my best," Astrid answered meekly.

Valka looked past Astrid. "You should go after him. You've no obligation to spend your time here listening to our issues."

Astrid smiled wryly, "Someone has to." Valka allowed herself the smallest chuckle, directing her eyes to the ground. She sat down on her log again, returning her focus to her staff.

"Your staff…" Astrid started again, gazing at it as Valka looked back up, "How did you make it?"

"A fan of weapons?" Valka asked. Most Vikings _were, _after all.

"I'm partial to the axe variety…" Astrid answered, laughing. Valka smiled and looked down at her staff again, as if she needed to see it to know what to say.

"It's both a weapon of war and one of peace," Valka started off. She pointed to the notches lining the hooks on either end of the staff, "It began as a way for me to communicate with the dragons in the nest, before I learned their wonderful, wordless ways. These holes here—they carry small rattles inside, see?" Valka tilted the staff so that it caught the firelight, allowing Astrid to see the bits of bone nestled inside the openings of the thick hook. For emphasis, Valka shook the staff briefly, and Astrid saw Cloudjumper lean his head up from the ground in response, apparently interested.

"That sound tends to get their attention and soothe them. I can't tell you how many nights I've spent using it to help little baby dragons get to sleep," Valka continued, smiling. This staff, it was clearly a point of pride for the woman. "When I spin the staff, it makes a high-pitched whining noise, hard to hear for a human, but loud and clear for a dragon. And then as you can probably tell, when things do come to blows, these clubs tend to work quite nicely." Valka cracked a thin smile, "So, I have everything I need all wrapped up into one."

Astrid nodded in understanding, impressed. It seemed that Hiccup got his ingenuity from his mother as well. She reached towards her back for her axe, tugging the weapon free from its place and holding it in one hand. "Hiccup made this one for me, but I got my start with my mother's old axe." It was almost a replica of the old one, the measurements corrected for her larger frame and the metal of a finer quality. In the center of the blade, where the wooden shaft met steel, there was a small engraving of a Deadly Nadder shape.

"And how is Edna these days?" Valka asked, cautious.

"She's good," Astrid said, shrugging.

"She was a kind young woman when I knew her, even if we disagreed on the dragons. I suppose I disagreed with just about everyone back then," Valka recalled. "I still remember when her family's ship came sliding into port, its passengers cold and hungry and a long way from home. She hit it off with your father… Ingvar was a striking man in those days, he and Finn both."

Astrid smiled wryly. It sounded to her like Valka might've once harbored a slight crush here or there for either her father or her uncle. Perhaps both, at one point. She probably hadn't been the only one.

"I left a lot of people behind when I went away from Berk. If… if things change once all of this is over, I'd enjoy the chance to catch up with your mother," Valka admitted.

"I'll make sure that you get that chance. I promise."

They fell into silence, Astrid pondering what it was she wanted to ask while Valka interchanged between eyeing Cloudjumper and eyeing Astrid with a curiosity that seemed to almost be bursting at the seams.

"Can I ask you another question?" Astrid finally spoke up, holding her tongue after that.

Valka nodded, "Of course."

"When you were gone… all those years… what did you do?" Astrid asked. She stammered for a second, "I mean, how did you spend your time? Were you always just inside that mountain?"

"For the first several months, well… yes," Valka answered, eyes glittering with a youth that Astrid hadn't expected. "Cloudjumper never meant to hurt me, of course. He just thought that I belonged somewhere else. It was easy to see that he was the leader—there was no great monarch like the monster in Helheim's Gate. In time, I whittled away at that tough exterior of his, and when I one day found myself able to ride on his back, well, that's when things really started to get interesting."

"I lost count of how many miles of ocean we flew over. Every time that we left, we returned with new dragons, some of them wild and some of them rescued from trappers we ran into along the way. Our little nest grew, and eventually I decided to go for the big one—to go to _the _nest."

"The Red Death's nest, you mean?"

Valka nodded, "Aye. An apt name, I suppose. I wasn't sure what I was expecting when we flew through the fog and found the mountain, but it wasn't that. She snuffed us out easily and nearly shot Cloudjumper and I out of the air. There was no way that I was going to free the dragons under her hold, so I chose to leave them behind. It was a hard choice, but I knew that if I died trying to kill that monster, then the dragons in our nest would have no one to look after them. So, after that particular excursion, we headed the opposite direction: to the mainland and its great cities."

Valka's eyes glittered as she reminisced, somehow drawing Astrid in even further. "Oh, that was quite the experience, let me tell you. We went farther than any Viking in the archipelago had ever been, farther than any of them could ever hope. I mingled with countless cultures, walked the streets of countless cities. I buried my nose in books, researching everything that the mainland had compiled about dragons. That was when I learned about the Alpha species, but the scholars believed them to be long extinct, just another lost piece of a bygone era. I later learned, unfortunately, that this was not the case."

"You met Drago," Astrid pieced together. Valka's eyebrows furrowed and knitted together, as if just the name brought her face to face with a bout of anxiety.

"Yes, I did. Cloudjumper and I were exploring the Saxon lands, not long from heading home. We stumbled upon a trapper raid. We managed to stay out of sight, but having seen the dragons that they did net for themselves, I couldn't continue on and leave them behind. We followed the trappers at a distance to their camp, and I watched Drago brutalize a Speed Stinger that refused to submit to him. I attacked under the cover of darkness. I managed to free a good dozen dragons or so before the call went up…"

Valka grimaced as she moved on to the next part, "Drago called upon his Alpha and took control of Cloudjumper, trying to wrestle me to the ground with the Alpha's power. Through some miracle, I managed to get through to Cloudjumper and escape, but unfortunately not with the dragons that we had freed. We fled back to our nest and relocated—somehow, I knew that Drago would follow, even without knowing the man and what made him who he was. The revelation that there was a dragon rider out there was too great to forget, since I stood as a threat to everything he aimed to accomplish. I took my dragons and we fled north, and ever since we've been hiding, striking where it suited us best and going to great lengths to avoid being tracked."

Valka looked up, seeing the way that Astrid was scrutinizing her, "I know that it is not the best way to fight a war. There's no way to win like that. But as long as I stood against him, I could save a few dragons and protect them from him, and that made all the difference to me. As long as I opposed him, he would never win."

"Attrition," Astrid said, "Letting your resolve be your primary strategy, fighting little by little here and there to wear down the enemy. Keeping Drago from filling his army by taking dragons from his suppliers."

Valka nodded solemnly, "A war that I would eventually lose. He's clearly confident that he has the strength to topple Berk. If he succeeds, he'll add all of the dragons on this island to his army, and then there will be no stopping him." Valka sighed, dejected, "I wish that I had known. If I'd known about Berk's alliance with dragons, maybe we all could've met sooner. Maybe we could've worked together and taken the fight to Drago. Instead, I've dragged all of you into our war without any sort of warning."

"You couldn't have known, Valka. It's not your fault," Astrid said.

"But it is," Valka disagreed. "I left my family behind, let them think that I was dead, all because I loved living with dragons more than I loved living on Berk."

Another silence took hold over the two women, the sounds of the fire and two breathing dragons filling their ears. Astrid couldn't dissuade Valka if she believed herself so fiercely. Right now, she wasn't feeling up to trying. She yawned, and it hit her just how tired she was. She'd been traveling a lot lately.

Valka beat her to the punch, "I think it's time I start trying to get some rest. These old bones of mine grow weary faster these days." The older woman chuckled and rose to her feet, about to turn away before she cocked her head at Astrid. "Thank you for indulging an old woman tonight, Astrid. It's been a pleasure getting to know you."

"Likewise," Astrid said, standing. Stormfly cooed and butted her head in, begging for scratches and receiving them.

"Tomorrow may be the day of battle. Drago's ships are fast, especially when he has somewhere to be," Valka said next, standing very seriously.

Astrid knitted her lips into a tight, flat line, blue eyes alight with her warrior's fire. "I'm not afraid of Drago," she insisted, tough as the day was long. It was true. She wasn'tafraid of that monster. She wasn't _afraid_ of anything.

Valka made no move to smile, answering in the most matter-of-fact tone that Astrid had ever heard, "You should be."

* * *

Stormfly dropped onto the ground, clawed feet digging into the earth as she settled. The beautiful Nadder squawked, twitching in curiosity. The moon, barely more than a sliver in the dark sky, managed to offer just enough light so that Astrid could clearly see the shape of the village. The Great Hall, with its enormous torches, made up for the lack of moonlight for most of the village, though its light didn't reach Astrid.

What really held her in sway was her hall. _Their _hall. This was the first night she and Hiccup would be in the same home and sleep in the same bed in over a week. Unfortunately, the release Astrid got from that fact was cruelly overshadowed… by a lot of things. She really missed the monotony of last week, where the only exciting thing to happen was the weekend dragon race. There had probably been a race scheduled for the other day, now cancelled thanks to the coming war.

_Postponed, not cancelled, _Astrid had kept telling herself. _Cancelled_ meant that the event would never be held; in Astrid's mind, because there wouldn't be anyone around to hold it. The term lent credence to the possibility that they would not survive Drago's impending attack. But they would, Astrid was certain. They were Vikings—they had fought worse than a crazy maniac with a big army just to keep living on Berk.

Those maniacs didn't have dragons in their army, though.

Stormfly squawked worriedly, the scant moonlight still managing to reflect off of her pearlescent scales as Astrid dismounted. Astrid offered a small smile as she came around to face the dragon, patting her girl's neck.

"It's okay, Stormfly. You go get some rest, alright? You're going to need it," Astrid suggested. Stormfly prattled for a minute, perhaps protesting, so Astrid offered her a few extra scratches under the chin. Stormfly leaned into her touch, purring, and when Astrid pulled her fingers away, the Nadder nudged her shoulder lovingly.

That was when the front door of the hall opened. Hiccup was halfway out before he tilted his head up and spotted her, and he froze in his tracks, holding the door open. He leaned his good leg forward like he was going to keep walking, and then straightened as he thought better of himself.

"Going somewhere?" she asked. There was barely any emotion at all on Hiccup's face when he shrugged, and he raised his left hand to scratch at the faint stubble along his jaw.

"Just heading to tell my dad I'm volunteering to take a night shift," he said. Astrid's eyebrows knitted together.

"You're what?"

"Spending the night at one of the watchtowers," he grunted, and started walking again. Toothless followed him out and offered a worrisome warble, the front door crashing shut behind them. The Night Fury's sentiment was clear—he didn't want Hiccup to go.

Astrid powered into Hiccup's path, stepping in front of him to stop him again. "You're doing no such thing," she blurted, and she could feel her own signature glare burning off of her face, rooting her husband to the spot.

Hiccup didn't try to fight her. Instead, he very nicely tried to command her to leave him be. "Please let me pass, Astrid."

"No," Astrid challenged. Stormfly cooed, sensing the tension. "I'm not letting you take a night shift on top of everything else."

"Someone has to," Hiccup muttered. His lips parted in a yawn and it made Astrid's heart twinge.

"And someone will. But _not _you. You need rest, Hiccup. Look at yourself, you're exhausted. If I can see that, then I know that you can. You won't be able to stay awake up there, and you'll fall asleep angry," Astrid countered. Hiccup lightly scoffed and averted his eyes. "I know that you're mad at your mom," she added.

Hiccup scowled. "Oh, do you think so? I thought you were too busy playing house with her to notice."

Astrid flinched, flustered and a bit scandalized. "Excuse me?" she blurted.

"I'm not stupid, Astrid. You think I don't see you, ingratiating yourself with her, trying to win her approval?"

"She's my mother-in-law," Astrid deadpanned.

"She's _my _mother, and she _left _me."

Astrid sighed, holding Hiccup steady in her gaze. That's what this was about. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised—again, she'd probably be just as upset as he was if their roles had been reversed. It wasn't right, what Valka had done. But from their conversation in the cove, Astrid had thought that Valka acknowledged that, that she _knew _it was wrong and wanted to make up for it. If only her son would let her.

"I'm sorry," Hiccup said before she could muster a reply. That sent one of Astrid's eyebrows up. Hiccup sighed a heavy, exhausted groan and pointed his eyes at the ground. "I hate feeling like this," he muttered, "I want to hate her so much, and at the same time I want to hug her ankles and not let go. I want to grab her and hug her close, and then I remember what I thought happened to her and what actually happened. She _left _me."

"I know," Astrid said with a nod. Her bottom lip made an appearance, feeling for him. "I don't envy you. What she did, and finding out the way that you did, that would cripple anyone. Being conflicted and angry doesn't make you weak, Hiccup, or bad. It makes you human."

She took a few steps closer to him, holding her hands a few inches out in front of her as if he were a wild animal that she might spook and send running. He met her eyes once more, and she saw the roiling conflict that he spoke of in his green orbs. He looked so vulnerable.

She tried to pull him into a hug, and he let her, relaxing into her touch as she wrapped her arms around him and held him close. She found the little hairs at the nape of his neck and fisted her fingers in them, absently tangling them in her grip.

"How am I supposed to forgive her, Astrid?" Hiccup mumbled, his voice strangled and weak.

"I don't think you are," she posited, "and I'm not sure that she expects you to, either. But I do know that she wants you to understand. She's scared, and it's been so long since she's had real human contact that she doesn't quite know how to overcome herself. She's afraid that if she puts herself out there, no one will accept her."

"So, what am I supposed to do?"

"Fight for her," Astrid asserted, "Show her that she matters to you—don't push her away. Give her a reason to stay, make her believe that she has a place here. Do you think you can do that?"

Hiccup was silent for several seconds. "I can try," he finally said, and his chest shook against her with the words. "I hate fighting with you. You always manage to keep me from stomping off and doing whatever stubborn thing I've decided on before I run into you." He let out a chuckle, and Astrid couldn't help but laugh as well.

"It's the least I can do. Sometimes you're as dumb as a yak's arse," she said with a smile, and she pulled away from the hug so that she could see her grin. Her hands moved to cup his jaw and she surged up onto her toes, printing an innocent kiss on his lips.

"That's some harsh name-calling," Hiccup feigned offense when they separated, "and here I was about to compliment you on your good looks and people skills." They shared another light laugh, holding one another close and gushing with mirth. Toothless bounded over and nudged his flat head in between them, his warm scales pushing them apart.

"Oh, go on, Toothless. You know full well how to push the front door open yourself," Hiccup giggled. The Night Fury rolled his eyes very matter-of-factly and then galloped away.

"So, does that mean you're listening to me and coming to bed?" Astrid inquired

Hiccup shrugged, "I think you're right, I need some sleep."

"I'm glad you realize that. I _am _right," Astrid haughtily agreed, and she turned him back around to face their hall. Her hand found his and they walked back across the incline, Stormfly and Toothless ahead of them. The Nadder lifted off and touched down on the roof of the hall.

"You know, I'm afraid that one of these days she's going to break that and fall into our kitchen," Hiccup said.

Astrid snorted. "If she does, we'll figure it out. Maybe reinforce the roof with Gronckle Iron." Hiccup chuckled at that. "Good night, Stormfly," Astrid called up to the roof. The Nadder trilled a goodnight and Hiccup pushed open the door to their hall, letting Toothless inside as well. The Night Fury headed to his slab in the common room and curled up, heating the floor with a burst of flame.

Astrid followed Hiccup into their room, changing into her night dress before crawling under the furs. Hiccup held her in his arms, and she ran her fingers through his thick hair to settle him down. His breathing started to level off as he truly gave in to his exhaustion.

"Good night, Astrid," he whispered.

"Good night, Hiccup. I love you," she replied. His reply was a muffled murmur that didn't quite escape his lips, rumbling around in his throat. She knew, though, that he was returning her sentiment. That he loved her, too, just as much as she loved him.

As tired as she was, Astrid lied awake that night for a lot longer than she was comfortable with. After her talk with Valka, she now had it in her to fear what was coming for them—did they have the numbers to match Drago? Would the gods smile upon them and guide them to victory? She didn't know, and she hated not knowing. The only thing she could be certain of was that she would fight until her last breath. To protect her dragons, her family, and her baby. _Their _baby.

Eventually, her anxious thoughts became too much to bear, and she surrendered herself to sleep as well.


	13. The Waiting

**A stranger comes to Berk, Hiccup tries to grow as a person, and the threat of Drago Bludvist at last begins to weigh on everyone's shoulders as the fleet closes in…**

* * *

_**13\. The Waiting**_

Hiccup startled awake with a gasp, fresh from a bad dream. Sunlight was filtering in through the window, which had been left cracked open in order to let some of the cool night air into the warm room through the night. He could hear the faint sounds of work going on outside thanks to the open window, and it forced the sleep from his eyes. It was time to get up and get moving. Drago would be here soon.

What gave him pause was the same thing as always: the beautiful blonde woman at his side. Astrid had nestled herself as close to him as she could manage, relieved to be able to sleep in the same bed once again. He'd welcomed her presence, holding her close yet loosely as he'd drifted off the night before. He could still feel her fingers fisted in his hair, combing through the unruly locks and gently massaging his scalp to soothe him to sleep. She was just as gorgeous sleeping as she was when she was awake, unbound blonde hair falling in waves around her round, angelic face.

Her form tensed up, and her lips parted in a soft mewl. Astrid's eyes fluttered open, blinking as she tried to adjust to the invasion of light. As she woke, she realized that he was awake and beside her, and her gaze drifted up, a soft smile lighting up her face as her eyes met his.

"Morning," she mumbled, voice a bit hoarse as she was still waking up. She must've slept particularly well, Hiccup thought.

"Morning," Hiccup echoed, "How did you sleep?"

"Fantastic," Astrid's smile grew as she answered. Hearing that was a relief. She reached forward to lock her fingers with his, "I missed you. I know we've been stuck with each other nonstop the past few days, but it's been awhile since we just… _slept."_

"I know what you mean," Hiccup agreed. He squeezed her hand, "It's good to be back."

"_Rider approaching!"_

The call made Hiccup go stiff. He craned his neck to look at the cracked window across the room, brow furrowing in confusion. The sound had come from the nearest watchtower, not terribly far from their house. But the usual call was _riders returning, _often followed by a horn to carry the announcement when a mere voice wasn't sufficient enough.

No one ever shouted _rider approaching._

"Did you hear that, too?" Hiccup asked, looking at Astrid and really only begging the question just to be sure that he wasn't going mildly insane.

Astrid nodded; her forehead creased by confusion. Without another moment's hesitation, both husband and wife catapulted out of bed, haphazardly replacing their nightgowns with the nearest clean sets of clothes. Hiccup fixed his prosthetic onto his leg and dragged a dark green tunic over his head, shimmying into a pair of brown breeches afterward. Astrid donned her undergarments and another one of her crimson tunics, though she decided to forgo the shoulder pads and merely draped a fur cape over herself. One pair of leggings and a pair of boots later, she was ready to go.

With both young Vikings fully dressed, it was a mad dash out of the bedroom and toward the front door, Astrid resolutely striding ahead of Hiccup and swiftly tying her locks into a loose braid behind her head. Toothless perked up from his slab in the common area as the bedroom door flew open, obviously awakened by the shouting outside but still uncertain about the cause.

"Toothless, c'mon, bud," Hiccup ordered, and Toothless leaped to his feet and followed. Hiccup's mind raced as he paced behind his wife, thinking about all of the morbid possibilities waiting outside their door. Someone was here, and whoever it was, they weren't from Berk.

Astrid nearly ripped the front door off of its hinges as she moved outside, a fiery protectiveness igniting around her lithe shape. As soon as the door was opened, shouts carried through the doorway and into the house, filling both of their ears with the sound of a hundred voices all jumbled together in askance. A mob had formed just over the hill near the cliff, burly bodies and deep voices surrounding something_. _From the middle of the horde, the unmistakable cry of a dragon went up, sending Hiccup's and Astrid's gears into another level of overdrive.

Stormfly's familiar squawk cascaded down from above and the Nadder leaped from the roof of the house to the ground, nearly flattening Hiccup in her haste. She shrilled again, urgently looking toward the mob of Vikings and lurching in their direction with an awkward skip in her step.

"What is it, girl? Who's there?" Astrid asked. Stormfly's only answer was another trill, and the Nadder bumbled toward the cluster of Vikings and hidden newcomer with newfound urgency. Astrid looked over her shoulder to meet Hiccup's eyes, frowning, and then she took off after her dragon.

Left with no choice but to follow, Hiccup and Toothless trekked across the hill to the cliffside, where the mob was gathered. The shouting started to meld into coherent speech as they drew closer. The glint of weapons in the sunlight became clear, and Astrid instantly started to shoulder her way through the crowd, closely followed by Hiccup. People parted without a word as they recognized the heir and his wife.

Just before they could reach the front of the mob, a single voice reached their ears.

"Come on, easy now, chaps! There's no need for weapons!"

Hiccup frowned as he recognized the voice. It _couldn't _be. He stayed on Astrid's heels, trying and failing to peek over people's shoulders and get a quick look at the visitor. He cursed and shimmied through another layer of Vikings. Finally, Astrid broke through the last ring of people, a mere split-second before Hiccup followed suit.

They recognized the man's muscular frame, not to mention his fur vest and the thick black hair that was tied back across his neck. The one visible scabbard at his hip was empty, the other one hiding behind the shape of his opposite hip. Looking at him from the side, they both saw the edge of the silvery blue tattoo on his chin.

"_Eret?"_

The tall trapper whirled around at her voice, one hand on his side and squinting against the sun. His handsome face brightened, and he flashed a smile. "Ah, you two! Just who I was looking for! A little help here? I wasn't sure what kind of reception to expect, but honestly, I haven't sent so much as a single dirty look and your fellow Vikings are ready to skin me alive. You lot really don't like visitors."

Shaking off his own surprise, Hiccup took a step forward and raised his hands into the air, gesturing at the assembled Berkians. "Everyone put away your weapons. He's not a threat," he urged. The older Vikings making up the huddle exchanged suspicious glances—and who could blame them, really—but complied, swords and axes and hammers slowly but surely sinking away from sight one by one.

"Appreciate that. I do enjoy being alive," Eret quipped, a bated chuckle rolling off his tongue.

Hiccup shook his head in disbelief, "I don't understand, how—" Hiccup saw Astrid stepping forward out of the corner of his eye, hands clasped together near her chest as she stared at something behind Eret. Following her, Hiccup leaned left so that he could see past Eret, getting a good look at the creature standing behind the trapper.

A flat, rounded body and a full hide flush with deep blue scales revealed itself, two long rows of razor-sharp teeth sticking out of the dragon's mouth and grinding against each other. Its wings remained folded at its back, and the dragon looked ready to defend itself at any moment. Perhaps the Thunderdrum had been the only reason that Eret's welcoming party hadn't attacked him. Even with the peace between dragons and Berk, everyone knew the kind of damage the species was capable of, _especially_ in close proximity.

"You flew here," Hiccup realized.

"Bit of a crash course, so I took longer than I wanted to…" Eret trailed off, holding his tongue as he seemed unsure what to do next.

"It's the Thunderdrum from Drago's ship," Astrid interrupted, making the connection. Hiccup cocked his head and Astrid looked back at him, pointing to the grievous scars near the dragon's eye that marked the animal. Hiccup's eyes widened.

"How about that? It must've followed the group back to the mountain, and…" Hiccup stopped himself short, remembering that no one else on the island knew about his mother. _Eret_ knew, though. He couldn't afford to have the trapper let slip that bit of information, accidentally or not.

Speaking of secrets and people that they needed to be kept from, an unmistakable bellow erupted up from beyond the crowd, signaling the arrival of the Chief.

"_What is the meaning of this?" _Stoick the Vast's voice carried, making even Hiccup wince just a little bit. He was still waking up, and his father's bellow was jarring this early in the morning.

The crowd cleared a path and Stoick shouldered his way through the assembly, piercing green eyes darting back and forth until he spotted the unfamiliar face at the heart of the pack. Suspicion erupted in his expressive orbs, and the Chief thundered forward as he yanked his hammer free from its place at his hip.

The speed with which Stoick moved belied his age, rampaging forward and practically leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Eret only had an instant to recoil before Stoick's huge hand was around his throat, lifting him a few inches off the ground. The Thunderdrum at Eret's back exploded in a fit of violent cries, immediately gearing up to protect the trapper.

"Who are you!?" Stoick bellowed at point-blank range. The Thunderdrum screeched, but Eret very obviously held out a hand in the dragon's direction, and the beast held itself back. The dragon's golden eyes flared with conflict, weighing its apparent trust of its rider and its distrust of the strange man strangling him. Stoick, meanwhile, seemed unconcerned with the volatile dragon nearby and shouted in Eret's face, hackles raised. "Did Drago Bludvist send you? Does he think he can intimidate us? Intimidate _me? _Well, I've got one Hel of a—"

"Dad!" Hiccup yelled, butting in and trying to separate the two. "Let go! He's a friend!" Stoick's raging eyes flicked over, narrow black pupils pointing at the slim young man that was his son, and he instantly relaxed. He seemed to just notice the hostile Thunderdrum nearby as he looked back at Eret, and, now that he took a second to think, relinquished his hold on the intruder's throat. Eret fell, collapsing to his knees and clutching at his throat while Hiccup and Astrid both surged forward like parents to a child.

"Wow, that's a strong grip," Eret coughed, gingerly holding his neck, "I've gotta say, I'm really starting to get sick of being strangled by abnormally large men." The trapper sucked in a breath and coughed a few more times. Stoick's expression twitched, wondering who the last one had been.

The Thunderdrum he'd flown in on huddled up to his side, a low moan of caution rumbling out from its throat. The normally fierce species of dragon nudged Eret's shoulder, as if warning him to be more careful in the future.

"Son, you know this man?" Stoick interrupted, just the right amount of impatient.

Hiccup looked back at his father, nodding quickly. "This is Eret. He used to work for Drago Bludvist," he said. At the mere mention of the madman's name, Stoick tensed up, his fingers tightening around the shaft of his war hammer. Recognizing the slight twitching from years of experience, Hiccup held up a cautionary hand. _"Used _to," he clarified, "He's not on his side anymore, as you can see based on the Thunderdrum at his ankles. He led us to Drago and was imprisoned with us when we were found out. Without him, we never would've escaped."

Stoick looked up from his son to the trapper standing next to him, appraising him with a different look now. Hiccup mirrored the look, glancing at the trapper as he helped him back to his feet. "Eret, this is my dad, the Chief of Berk."

Eret flashed a smile, taking two steps forward and extending his hand. "Eret, son of Eret. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Chief." He failed to contain a small cough.

Stoick glanced down at Eret's outstretched hand and then back up at the trapper, eyeing him warily. His son vouched for this man, yes, but that didn't mean he would drop everything and trust the stranger. Not a chance. Eret seemed to get the message and his hand slowly fell to his side, face flushing with embarrassment. Someone in the crowd snickered.

Keen to move on to more important matters, Stoick spoke up. "Why are you here, son of Eret?"

"I came to help," Eret blurted out, as if it were obvious. He winced all of a sudden, looking down at his side and placing a hand there. He wasn't able to hide the bandages as Stoick followed the move with his eyes.

"You need medical attention," Stoick said, practically made of stone.

Eret shook his head insistently. "It's just a scratch, I promise."

"If you helped my son and my daughter-in-law escape from that monster, the least I can do is ensure that you are well cared for," Stoick insisted. He nudged a nearby Viking, "Fetch Gothi, send her to my home. I will meet her there." The Viking nodded and took off with nothing more than an _'Aye, Chief', _disappearing through the throng of people.

"Everyone else, disperse! We are short on time, and we have a war to prepare for. Get back to work!" Stoick shouted, his voice carrying as it often did when he needed to get his point across. The crowd disbanded without an ounce of hesitation, the din of conversation filling the fresh silence as Vikings headed every which way to finish preparing for Drago's attack.

"If you'll follow me, Eretson, we'll see to it that you receive medical attention," Stoick commanded. The massive man turned his back and began the trek to the house, absently motioning to his entourage to follow.

Hiccup closed in on Eret, carefully stepping backwards as he went. Astrid appeared on his other side, and she raised a fist to smack Eret's arm with. The trapper flinched, wincing, "What was that for?"

"For being an idiot, you _idiot_," Astrid said through her teeth. "We told you to stay behind."

Eret's eyes narrowed, "And I told you that I'd make the most of my second chance. We got each other into this, the least I can do is try to help get you out of it."

Hiccup held up his hands in caution. "Let's just all calm down," he warned. The Thunderdrum grunted at Eret's side and Hiccup glanced down at it, unable to hide his smile. "You bonded with him."

"I just did what you told me to. He did the rest," Eret said whilst grinning down at the dragon. A dark cloud overcame his face and he looked back up at them. "There's something else. I passed Drago's fleet on the way here. They're further away than I thought they'd be—your mother slowed them down quite a bit." Hiccup winced and whipped his head around, silently thanking the gods that no one else was still around to hear what Eret had said.

"My guess, they're about twelve hours away. Maybe less, though," Eret guessed. He scratched his chin, having not noticed Hiccup's panicked reaction to the mention of Valka.

"Twelve hours. That's enough time. Listen, Eret…" Hiccup said quickly. The trapper's brow furrowed at how easily Hiccup dismissed the news of Drago, but he didn't get a chance to question it. "I need you to not say anything about my—my mom. She's hiding in the woods right now. Nobody else knows about her."

Eret flinched, raising one surprised eyebrow. "No one?"

"No one," Hiccup repeated, "Not even my father."

Eret sucked on his teeth. "But, shouldn't he know, of all people? That's his wi—"

"I mean it, Eret. He can't know yet. Those are her wishes," Hiccup interjected, more or less absolving himself. He wanted to tell his father more than anything. When Eret continued to stare at him in disbelief, Hiccup held up a hand and let out a deep sigh. "I'll explain later. Just… avoid mentioning our mutual friend for now?" Eret looked to Astrid, and she was holding a similar hard look. Reluctantly, the trapper gave a nod. He didn't know what was going on with this family and this freezing cold rock, but it ultimately wasn't his primary concern.

"_Hiccup!" _Stoick's voice carried. The Chief was already climbing the hill to his house, having left the three of them behind. Hiccup looked over his shoulder, noticing Gobber and Spitelout hanging around near him. He knew his father's tone. He was taking too long.

"Time's up. Let's get moving, Eret," Hiccup asserted and motioned for him to follow. Astrid picked up her pace for a brief second to stay by his side, and their dragons fell in tow. Eret took another look around the village and glanced down at his Thunderdrum, and he shrugged. The trapper accelerated to a jog, not wanting to get left behind. That father of Hiccup's, the Chief, scared him to death, and he didn't need to dig himself even further into the man's bad side.

* * *

"Ow!"

Eret recoiled as Gothi prodded him with her staff. The old woman had come down from her perch to the Chief's house to inspect the trapper, walking circles around the muscular young man as she eyed both the bandaged wound on his side and the curious brand scarring his chest. The healer walked silently, a frail finger leaning against her lip as she did her examinations.

There were several people in the house, most of them eyeing Eret with suspicion. The Berk Council, along with Hiccup, Astrid, and the other riders filled the house, the council members huddled together separate from them on one side of the room. They'd already had their conversation (which was really more of an interrogation) with Eret, whereupon he'd told them about passing by Drago's fleet on his way to the island. Now, they were deliberating amongst themselves in hushed whispers. Hiccup and Astrid stood on the opposite side, silently watching Gothi examine Eret while the twins, Fishlegs, and Snotlout hung back.

Well, only for a second.

Astrid could practically feel Ruffnut's shadow hanging over her shoulder, much less hear the young woman as she whispered conspiratorially in her ear.

"Are you seeing those muscles? Oh, _gods, _I bet they can do things…" Ruffnut practically moaned, eyes absolutely _fixated_ on Eret. Gothi prodded him again and the trapper complained, turning in such a way that his bicep contracted and showed off the extent of his muscle. Ruffnut let out another small gasp as she watched, twirling one of her braids and wetting her lips. "Oh, yeah. Me _likey."_

Astrid jolted a step to the side, turning her head in Ruffnut's direction as if she were a pest buzzing around her ear. She gave the female Thorston a dirty look, which Ruffnut absorbed with her usual stoutness.

"Just saying, girl, I am _glad _you're married. That leaves mister Eret, son of Eret _all _to me, myself, and I," Ruffnut drawled.

"Can you maybe fantasize about Eret in private?" Astrid hissed.

"Jealous?" Ruffnut prodded, grinning wickedly.

Astrid sneered, "Not one bit. You can have him; I'd just prefer to not hear about all the things you want to do to him whispered in my ear."

Ruffnut let out a short, haughty laugh, "I haven't even started describing all the things I want to do to him, much less the things I want _him _to do to _me. _Oh, those arms—I bet he's got a _strong _grip." She fingered one of her braids, tightening her fist around it, and Astrid grimaced at the implication.

"And I'd like a new conversation to listen in on, please," Hiccup interrupted, standing on Astrid's other side. He kept his face pointed forward, expression as blank as he could manage.

"Ugh," Ruffnut groaned, _"Boring!" _and then she stalked away to return to the others, instantly fielding whispered flirtations from Snotlout and Fishlegs.

"Thanks," Astrid whispered to her husband, "I really didn't need that exchange."

"Happy to help," Hiccup answered, smirking at her. He returned his gaze to the Berk Council across the room, convening as quietly as they could. "We should be over there," he muttered.

"Then let's _go_ over there," Astrid suggested. Hiccup sighed and then shrugged, and together they walked around the perimeter of the common area to approach the Council. Stoick stood so that he could watch Eret and Gothi at all times, with Gobber standing perfectly across from him and the remaining members of the Berk Council filling in the gaps. The hushed debate quieted down as Hiccup and Astrid arrived, every pair of eyes turning to them.

"What do you make of this, son?" Stoick asked.

"What do you mean, 'what do I make of it'?"

"I mean, what do you make of this outsider? Is he sincere?" Stoick asked, pressingly.

Hiccup nodded. "I believe so. If you'd asked me a few days ago, I would've said no. But like we said, we wouldn't have escaped Drago if not for him. And when we… found land… we asked Eret to stay while we came here. We made sure he had everything that he'd need to stay alive and promised to find him after everything was done. Drago's the one who left him like this. Aside from you, there's no one on this island who wants a shot at him more than Eret."

Stoick nodded, confident in his son. "And you, Astrid? Do you feel the same?"

Stoick often asked the same questions of Hiccup and Astrid. It was an important (in Stoick's eyes) part of training them to be Chief and Chieftess of Berk. They were expected to rely on one another when making decisions, to offer the other advice in times of need. Stoick had even routinely encouraged Astrid to disagree with her husband, to help him see the other side of issues. "I do, Chief. Eret's come a long way just to get here. I say we let him help," she said, supporting Hiccup. She'd been on that ship, too, interacted with Eret just as much as her husband. And she trusted the trapper enough to vouch for him as well.

Stoick nodded his head in agreement, glancing at the other members of the Berk Council. "I would hear what more he has to say, but I fear we don't have the time. I trust both of your words. The rest of you, return to fulfilling your duties with the preparations. If what this trapper said is true, Drago will be here by the evening, and we _must_ be ready. Spitelout, oversee the fortifications on the lower bank. Phlegma…"

Stoick dished out orders to each member of the Council, handing a set of tasks to Gobber, Sven, Ingvar, Astrid, and everyone else, except…

"What about me?" Hiccup asked, perplexed. Everyone else, even his wife, had been ordered to help out with fortifying the island in some way. He on the other hand had been noticeably passed over.

"Stay a moment, son. I wish to speak with you," Stoick said. He waved off everyone else, before reaching out an arm in Astrid's direction, "Astrid, before you go, ensure Eret finds his way to Gothi's. Have him get as much rest as he can and find someone to stand watch and ensure that he does. If he's here to help us as you believe, then we will need him in the best condition that he can be before the war."

Astrid nodded, "Aye, Chief." She squeezed Hiccup's arm in a loving farewell and then headed out the door with the others, towing Eret in her wake. Gothi departed a moment later, packing up her supplies and hobbling away. With that, Hiccup and Stoick were alone in the house.

"What did you want to talk about?" Hiccup asked, wary and eager to break the suffocating silence.

Stoick sighed and stepped over to one of the chairs surrounding the hearth on the other side of the room. The ground seemed to shake with each of Stoick's strides, and the heavyset man carefully sat in his seat and removed his helmet, running a meaty hand down the length of his face.

"It occurs to me that I've been… difficult in the last several days," Stoick said with a heavy exhale. He stared at the dormant fire pit, as if his steely glare could shoot sparks and ignite it with a warm blaze.

Hiccup shrugged, bobbing his shoulders as he paced around the front of his father's chair, eyes set on one just like it a few feet away. "I mean… I haven't done a great job of being much better. I've been dodging you every time you try to talk to me about the chiefdom."

Stoick snorted, a faint hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Yes. You have."

"Sorry about that, by the way," Hiccup muttered, rubbing a hand along his other arm as he collapsed into the other chair.

Stoick shrugged, "Don't be. I realize that it would be a big adjustment."

Hiccup cocked his head at a slight angle, lips pulled tight against his own face as he appraised his father. "Why are you being like this?"

Stoick shrugged again, "Like what?"

"Understanding," Hiccup blurted out, gesturing melodramatically at Stoick with both arms.

"Perhaps I've just been coming to my senses and want to have an honest talk with my son," Stoick suggested, "Hiccup, I want you to know that I want you to become Chief because I know that you will be great at it. You've grown up so much from the boy that perpetually frustrated me when he was young. I feel horrible saying this, but there were honestly times that I saw you as a failure."

Hiccup deadpanned, hard. "Gee, Dad, really laying it on thick."

Stoick lifted his hand from the armrest, signaling for Hiccup to pause. "It took too long for me to realize that it was _I _who was the failure. I was a failure at being a father. I should've treated you with more respect, I should've treated you like you were my son."

Hiccup dug his fingernails into one side of his head, rifling through the tangled auburn locks. "Dad, it's water under the bridge, really—"

"That doesn't mean that the way I behaved wasn't wrong," Stoick interrupted. He winced, stressing his next point. "Hiccup, you are all that I have left of your mother…" Hiccup had to fight really hard not to react to that statement, considering that very same woman was hiding out in the cove right now, "And you are everything that I'd hoped you would be, and more. Sure, the way things went has been… unconventional, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Son, I _trust_ you to lead this village. I trust that you are capable of being far better at this job than I was, because it's in you. When I look at you, all I see is an exemplary leader. Because that's what you are. Exemplary."

Hiccup looked at his feet, an awkward warmth rising to his cheeks. He was pretty embarrassed. "Dad, I don't really know what to say."

"I want you to be Chief not because you have to be, or because _I _want you to be, but because _you_ want to be. I just… I think that you should understand that."

Slowly, Hiccup slurred out his response. "Why are you saying these things?"

"I want you to be prepared," Stoick replied, averting his eyes now from his son.

"Prepared for what?" Hiccup pressed. When his father wouldn't meet his eyes again, he started jumping to conclusions on his own. Stoick looked _tired. _He'd tried to talk with Hiccup about the chiefdom on more than one occasion before, most infamously their last conversation about it the day that he'd run away from breakfast and flown away from Berk as fast as he could. But his father had looked different then, even if it was only a little more than a week ago. Despite his age, Stoick the Vast had still seemed spry, strong, and capable. Now, he just looked… _defeated._

"Are you afraid we're going to lose? That you might not make it?" Hiccup inquired. The next words on his tongue made him wince, the mere thought that was wriggling through his overactive brain feeling like a knife to the chest, "That you might… die?"

Instantly, Stoick grew defensive, a brief wall building up in front of him as he rebutted the idea, "I'm not _afraid_ that I'm going to die, son," he snarked. A second passed and he relaxed, "I'm merely preparing for the possibility that it could happen. Drago… he is unlike anything our people have ever seen. He's vicious and cruel and uncompromising. He'll kill anyone who stands in the way of his goals. And we are standing in his way more than anyone.

"The chiefdom _must_ survive if we lose this battle. I don't intend to die, but fate has a way of not respecting one's intentions. If something happens to me, I want you to know that I love you, son, _so much. _You are everything to me," Stoick grew choked up, averting his gaze and wiping what appeared to be a tear?

"Dad," Hiccup blurted out, surging from the chair to his feet and across the hearth to his father. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his father's torso as much as he could, squeezing the much larger man tight. "You're everything to me, too. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything."

Stoick returned the hug, shushing him, "You have nothing to be sorry for, Hiccup. I tried to force this on you, and I was wrong."

"But I do," Hiccup insisted, small tears of his own starting to well up in his eyes. He thought about his mom, hidden in the woods, and how his father knew nothing of that. He thought of all of his foolish idealisms, and how they'd gotten both himself and Berk into this, the greatest sort of trouble he'd ever managed to stir up in his life. "I swear, when this is over, I'm gonna make things right. I swear."

Stoick couldn't be sure what the boy was talking about, but oddly, he was used to it. Probably just another one of Hiccup's odd little quirks. He'd find out in due time. So, he simply said, "Okay, son," and the two pulled away, having satisfied their quota of familial affection for the next week. Hiccup rubbed one of his arms across his face, dabbing away the tears trying to spill down his cheeks.

Hiccup managed a slight chuckle, pointing towards the door. "I'm gonna go put on some real clothes," he said, gesturing to his plain tunic and breeches that he'd chaotically dressed himself in upon rising from bed, "and then I'm gonna get to work. I'll see you for dinner, maybe?"

Stoick beamed, nodding. "Bring Astrid, too."

"You got it," Hiccup agreed seamlessly. He tilted his head and glanced at the front door, which seemed to be calling him. "C'mon, Toothless," he whistled, and the Night Fury poked his head up from his spot on the floor across the building. With a quick skip in his step, Hiccup powered over to the front door, leaving his father seated by the hearth.

His hand paused as he nearly touched the door handle, Toothless' warm and eager breath fogging up the metal. The dragon warbled as Hiccup remained motionless, something weighing on his mind.

"Hey, Dad?" he finally called back, and Stoick looked up from his seat.

"Yes, son?"

"After the battle… when everything's over…" Hiccup said, trailing off for a moment. He steeled himself and lifted his eyes from the floor, gaze hardening as he stared straight at his father with an admirable resolve, "After _we've won,_ I'll do it. I'll accept the chiefdom, if you'll allow it."

Stoick cracked a wide smile, an ardent nod going with it. "I would like nothing more, son."

Hiccup mirrored his father's expression, a simple "Okay," escaping his lips. Then, he tugged the door open and followed Toothless outside, ready to tackle whatever was coming his way.

* * *

The Deadly Nadder flapped beneath the high walls of the cove, dancing towards the ground. The sleek shape of a Night Fury passed the Nadder and her rider by, taking a slow, descending lap around the rim of the cove. On the ground, a tall figure rose to stand beside a seated Stormcutter, carefully removing her mask as the two dragons landed and their riders dismounted.

"You're back," Valka said, surprised.

"Hi, Valka. How are you?" Astrid greeted. Hiccup slid off of Toothless' back and casually removed his mask, his smile causing Valka to flinch. She hadn't seen him smile yet—he'd been almost perpetually angry with her since their unexpected meeting.

Valka realized that she'd paused and straightened, shaking off her stupor and looking to Astrid with a renewed grin. "I'm well, Astrid. And you?"

"Feeling good," Astrid replied, an identical smile gracing her features.

"We came to go over the details of the plan one last time, make sure we all understand." Hiccup announced, "We're expecting Drago to strike as early as tonight, so we need to be prepared."

"That is wise of you both," Valka agreed with a nod, "So, where should we start?"

Hiccup sauntered over, Astrid at his side, and stooped down to snatch a long stick from the dirt. The pair walked over to the small fire pit where Valka had been the previous night, and as Valka reached them, Hiccup quickly began drawing in the dirt.

"We're watching the north and the east most heavily, since that's where we expect Drago's fleet to come from," Hiccup started, drawing a rough circle that indicated Berk's position, "No matter where they show up, though, the first order of business is going to be getting the women and children out of harm's way. Everyone in the village is packed to make a quick escape, so that shouldn't take long. All of the dragons on the island will accompany the group to this cove, since it's the furthest place from the battle and therefore the safest."

Valka noticed how smooth Hiccup's strokes were as he scribbled intersecting arrows across his rough sketch of Berk. He was a talented drawer. "That's where you meet them. It's probably going to be a rough introduction. No one else knows you're here. Do you think you can keep everyone calm?"

Valka nodded, "I'll make it clear that I'm not the enemy. Cloudjumper will earn the dragons' trust. If the dragons trust us, then the Vikings will, too. I'll keep my mask on in order to hide my identity."

Hiccup bit back a grimace at his mother labeling the people of Berk as _Vikings._ Which, they were, but they were also her people. She was separating herself from them. It made him sad to think that she felt the need to do so. The two of them together were as different as one could be from the typical Viking, and he had no issue calling himself one. Nevertheless, he nodded. "Good. After that, I need you to bring a few dragons and keep watch in the forest. Toothless and Stormfly at the least will come with you. On the off chance that anyone from Drago's army finds their way here, engage them. Do whatever you have to."

He looked to Valka to make sure that she understood, and she nodded resolutely. She didn't _want_ to use lethal force, but odds were that any of Drago's soldiers would use it against her, so she needed to fight fire with fire. They had an understanding—they had one shot at this, and they couldn't pull any punches.

When Valka nodded, Hiccup immediately continued, "Some of the dragons will also be staying closer to the village in case we need to cover a retreat, Toothless in particular. He'll keep them out of sight, so don't worry about them. With no dragons on the battlefield, Drago _should_ keep his Alpha on the sidelines. If he doesn't, then we retreat without a second thought. We can't combat that kind of enemy today. But if he does, then we engage and give them Hel."

"They'll go down easy. Every fighter on Berk is worth ten soldiers from the mainland," Astrid boasted, lips spread in a confident smirk. The look was… kind of hot, actually. _Stop thinking like that, Hiccup, this is serious._

Hiccup answered with an acquiescent nod, "We should cover our retreat plan, if it comes to that. If the battle turns against us, everyone has orders to run for the woods. The dragons will give us some cover fire as the army gives chase. Everyone takes their dragons and heads to the Steppingstones where we can regroup and plan our next moves." Hiccup dragged his stick away from the sketch of Berk and dotted the dirt with several small notches. Valka knew the place; the Steppingstones were a cluster of small, uninhabited islands just south of Berk. They were too little and too barren to support any sort of permanent civilization, but for their purposes, the islands would work quite well if worse came to worst.

"And that's pretty much the gist of it. Can't really plan for much else," Hiccup said, straightening his posture as he pulled the stick away from his sketches in the dirt. Dropping the stick, he fiddled with his hands, "Any, uh… any questions?"

Valka shook her head, offering a slight smile. "I understand. You've done well planning this, Hiccup."

"I had help. Lots of it," Hiccup replied quickly, two quick bursts leaving his lips. Astrid smiled and she nudged him supportively.

Valka was watching him when he turned his eyes back in her direction. Her eyes were an oceanic blue and they seemed to burn through him and tear all the way to his soul. He internally cringed under her gaze, replaying all of their conversations over the last hectic day. He saw now that he'd treated her poorly. Not that he didn't think he had a right to be angry—but he definitely had some things to make amends for.

"Well, I'm going to go see to Cloudjumper. I was drying the last of his dinner," Valka decided. She grabbed a few fish that she'd apparently laid out to dry and rose to her feet, tall and spindly as she stood over them. Hiccup realized with a start that he'd inherited his entire body type from her. He'd known that, obviously, but hadn't really processed that before. She turned her back and approached her dragon, who lifted his head from the ground and purred at her. She tossed the helping of fish to the dragon, who instantly ate it up. As his gullet burgeoned upon swallowing the meal, Cloudjumper's smashed face twinkled with kindness, with love. Hiccup wondered how they'd met, how they'd progressed to this point. The Stormcutter was looking at her the same way that Toothless looked at him, that Stormfly looked at Astrid.

Before he knew it, he was standing and pulling his arm from Astrid's grasp. She didn't say anything, but he could feel her eyes on his back. He knew that she approved, that this was not only what she wanted him to do, but what he needed to do.

Valka didn't hear his approach, but Cloudjumper saw him. The huge dragon's golden eyes flicked over to him, black pupils broadening into curious, roundish slits.

"Hey, Mom?" Hiccup blurted out, startling Valka. The older woman tensed and whirled around, flustered. She quickly composed herself, but her eyebrows knitted together.

"Hiccup?" she inquired, as if he wasn't really there and was only a figment of her imagination that a single blink would dispel.

Hiccup huffed under his breath and looked at the ground, rubbing his hands against his sides nervously. He'd walked up to her, and all without a plan. "I just, uh…" he started, forcing himself to look his mother in the eye, "I thought I should apologize for my… behavior over the last day. I've been… combative."

Valka frowned, taking a cautious step forward. When Hiccup didn't back away, she brightened, if only a little bit. "I fear I don't deserve your apology, son," The word tasted fresh on her lips, a simple term she hadn't had the chance to say—really say—in twenty years, "I can only imagine what I've put you through by revealing myself. By revealing where I really was while you were growing up."

Hiccup contemplated that, as he'd been doing since he'd met her. He wasn't really over everything, not yet. But he _needed_ this connection while he had the opportunity. His mother was _alive_ and standing right in front of him, and before this exact moment, he'd been doing everything that he could to push her back away from him. He needed to be doing the exact opposite.

"Let's just… talk about this again after the battle, okay? I'm still a little raw here, but… I do want to know you. You're my mom. After all of… _this_… do you think we can start over?" Hiccup asked, leaving the window he'd opened just barely cracked.

Valka beamed and nodded enthusiastically, cracking a wide smile. "Yes. Yes, of course, Hiccup."

"Good," Hiccup blurted out. He grimaced internally, trying to compensate for that awkward response, "I'm… I'm looking forward to it." It wasn't a thought-out apology, but he'd gotten his point across, and his mother seemed receptive. He dared to say he was happy with that.

He turned his back and powered away.

But he could only take three steps in Astrid's direction before he heard the horn.

It was a long, deep blast, followed closely by a second blare of the same kind. _A warning. _Hiccup froze in his tracks, chin trailing up as he locked eyes with Astrid. She had the same tense look of fear in her eyes, overwhelming the confidence she'd displayed just moments earlier. Growing up, two long blasts had always meant a dragon raid was incoming.

That kind of horn hadn't been blown on Berk in five years.

"Toothless!" Hiccup half-yelled, surging forward. The Night Fury bounded over to meet him halfway, already leaning into the ground so that Hiccup could scurry into the saddle. With a practiced push of the pedal on the tail rigging, the prosthetic fin swung open and the Night Fury took flight.

"Stormfly, let's move!" Astrid echoed, climbing into the Nadder's saddle as the beautiful blue dragon spread her wings to lift off the ground and give chase. Toothless rapidly flapped above them, almost crashing into a tree and desperately clambering up it. He tore through the greenery, his claws even ripping an entire branch from the tree as he scrabbled up the trunk, reaching the top so that he and Hiccup could look at the horizon.

Astrid and Stormfly followed them, immediately seeing what they saw as she matched their height at the top of a similar tree. On the water's edge, cresting past the eastern horizon and into Berk's visibility was a _lot_ of ships, innumerable as of right now since they were still so far. The sentries had had good eyes, giving the island ample time to mobilize for the now-impending attack.

Black Hel below, Drago was _early. _Eret's estimation must've been wrong. He'd never flown on a dragon before today, so he didn't know the extent of the difference between traveling by sea and by dragon.

He decided it didn't matter, but no matter how hard he tried, Hiccup couldn't shake the absolute dread pounding down on his shoulders. He'd known this was coming, and yet no amount of preparation could've readied him for this moment, for the approach of their greatest enemy yet. He met Astrid's eyes and gulped, the look on her own face eerily similar to his.

The heir to Berk looked down into the cove, where Valka was still standing and watching them, stock still. Though neither mother nor son could see the other's facial expression, the sentiment was clear. Without even seeing Hiccup's features beyond his shape, Valka knew.

The Dragon Rider pulled down her mask, ready for the war.

"This is it," Hiccup said as he turned his attention back to the east, watching as the black ships inched ever closer. They had no more than an hour before the ships would reach the shore, before steel would sing and blood would spill on the Isle of Berk for the first time in five years.

Astrid's features tightened, sheer ferocity all that remained. She gripped the handlebars of her saddle, knuckles flaring white. "Let's show this bastard what happens when you march on Berk," she declared.

The two riders took off, making a break for the village and sending up silent prayers for the gods' blessings.

* * *

**Updating early because I feel like it. I can't imagine there are many complaints about that. Anyway, next chapter, the war begins, and Chapter 14 is a whopper. Thanks for reading.**


	14. The Wings of War, Part One

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I hope this one lives up to all of your hopes, and that you're all staying safe and healthy in these troublesome times.**

* * *

_**14\. The Wings of War**_

_**Part One**_

Berk's expansive evergreen trees became a blur as the two dragons zoomed through the forest. Toothless and Stormfly remained on the ground, riders on their backs as they ran through the woods. Flying would've admittedly been faster, but running was ultimately safer. The entire point of sending the dragons into the forest was to make it appear as if there were no dragons to be controlled on Berk. Being spotted before the battle even began would make that all for naught.

Toothless and Stormfly broke through the trees, bounding to the dirt road at the foot of the hill leading into the forest. Dragons of all shapes and sizes remained stubbornly grounded, as if they too knew the potential consequences of taking to the sky. Vikings bolted back and forth through the town, preparing for battle. Some men were hugging their wives and children, bidding them to be careful in the woods. Others were sharpening their weapons and looking over their shoulders to the horizon with fire in their eyes. There hadn't been a real battle on their island in a long time, and the one on its way felt as monumental as Ragnarök itself.

Hiccup and Astrid endured the looks as they dismounted. Stoick was halfway across the village, at the foot of the Great Hall but still well in view. They jogged, steps falling in unison as they crossed the dirt road toward him, avoiding the occasional sprinting Viking that got in their way. Stoick was locked in a conversation with Spitelout. The elder Jorgenson looked over Stoick's shoulder at them, and the Chief followed his eyes, instantly relaxing as he turned on his heel and found Hiccup and Astrid before him.

"There you are," Stoick exhaled, relieved. He didn't deign to ask where they'd been, only implying that their absence had been noticed. Hiccup cringed.

"He's here," he offered instead. Stoick nodded somberly.

"He is," the Chief lamented, "But we knew that he would be eventually. We've prepared accordingly."

"I hope that's true," Hiccup replied. Now that their time was up, his mind was wandering into its most dangerous corners, exacerbating his most fringe fears. For all of their planning, they were really just taking a stab in the dark, and depriving themselves of their greatest weapons—the dragons—would undoubtedly hamper their defense.

Toothless warbled at his side, nudging Hiccup's hand with his head. Hiccup stooped down, rubbing the Night Fury's warm, black scales and finding some comfort in them. "Time to get going, bud. You know what to do."

Toothless crooned again, worried. "We'll be fine, Toothless. I'll see you soon," Hiccup assured the dragon. He wished that he could completely believe his own words. He gave Toothless a few extra chin scratches and then the Night Fury took off in the other direction with Stormfly, sending up a short roar that served as a signal to the other dragons. All at once, the reptiles started to slither towards the woods, walking and crawling rather than flying. A flock of unable women and children, plus a few warriors sent away to protect them, walked with the beasts, slowly but surely fading into the forest.

"They're going to be okay," Astrid said, placing a knowing hand on Hiccup's shoulder. Stoick and Spitelout scuttled off to deliver orders, keeping them out of earshot from her next words. Still, Astrid lowered her voice to an almost conspiratorial whisper, "Valka will make sure of it."

"I know," Hiccup managed, wincing as he looked at his wife. "It's us I'm more worried about."

"Maybe it's Drago that should be worried about us. He's the one dumb enough to invade an island full of Vikings," Astrid posited, clenching her fingers around her readied axe and wearing a grin. Hiccup could only admire her confidence, tightening his features in what he hoped was a decent emulation of it.

He knew what his dad would say, if he was still standing next to him. He needed to be strong now, because that's what Chiefs did. Stoick was always strong, or at least was always acting strong. Hiccup had to be the same, even though he loathed fighting. He'd never taken a life, and he'd certainly never wanted to.

The men on those ships couldn't check either of those boxes. They hated him and everything that he stood for without even knowing him. They would fight to the death against the world he wanted to create, contest Berk's peaceful message in favor of violence with every last breath in their bodies. So Hiccup had to be strong, not just for his family, but for the dragons and for his people, too. He'd gotten them all into this mess, and it fell to him to get them out of it.

"We're going to win," Hiccup said, each word leaving his lips with greater and greater certainty. "We're going to win this war today, before it ever gets started."

"I'm with you," Astrid swore, grabbing her husband's hand and squeezing.

"Good thing, too. I'm not sure what I'd do if you weren't," Hiccup quipped, flashing a smirk. Astrid snickered under her breath and rapped her fist against his armored shoulder.

The huge horn erupted again, two long blasts cutting through the evening air. Boots started crunching against the ground, accompanied by the valorous shouts of Viking warriors. Astrid and Hiccup both looked toward the horizon, seeing the shapes of the last few stragglers sprinting through the village and toward the edge of the island.

"We should go." Hiccup nodded in agreement, and they jogged away from the Great Hall toward the increasing sounds of the warband readying for battle. It was eerie, listening to the village prepare for a battle against other people. When dragons had raided Berk by night, there was little order to the village's defense. Everyone fought as well as they could to prevent the beasts from stealing livestock or burning down buildings, either through taking their lives or chasing the creatures away. With hostile humans approaching the island, there was an entirely different kind of response involved.

Hiccup and Astrid trotted through the horde, staying close to one another as they steadily moved to the front underneath a din of shouts. Stoick's voice suddenly rose up above the rest, the Chief speaking in a great bellow that rippled through the crowd.

"People of Berk!" Stoick hollered, holding his great hands open. His palms were calloused and scarred from years of constant fighting, tempered only by the five years of relative peace that were now coming to an end. "We knew this day would come. None of us could be sure when, but we knew that one day, enemies would rise against us… against our way of life!"

Hiccup and Astrid arrived at the front, slipping between the likes of Hoark and Ack and a few others. Spitelout towered over Hiccup at the young man's left, muscular arms overlapping across his chest. Stoick's eyes fell on his son and daughter-in-law, holding only for a second as the faintest hint of a smile crossed his face. The Chief reset his eyes on his people as quickly as he'd been distracted, hardening. He pointed one arm behind him, loosely gesturing to the fleet of warships inching towards Berk.

"Those men out there are coming for us, not because any one man brought them, but because the time has come to not only preach our message, but to protect it from those who would see it silenced!" Stoick paused for a few moments, letting the tense silence hold over his people. When he spoke again, his voice was softer.

"I will not lie to you all. The man leading this army… he is a man of unspeakable evil. He would murder babies in their sleep if he thought they'd one day try to topple him. He claims to be a so-called Dragon God, pressing the creatures that have become our friends into the service of his terrible goals. I have no doubt that he means to rule the world and all of the people that live within it. Berk has never seen a threat like him. He wants our dragons and will stop at nothing to take them. But he does not know what he is up against!"

Someone in the crowd shouted _'Aye!' _in wild agreement. Stoick squared his shoulders, toughness written on his face. "We are Vikings. We are the greatest fighting force in all of Midgard!"

Another chorus of _Aye's _rang out.

"We fear nothing, not even death!"

"_Aye!"_

"And above all, we have something to fight for! They have the numbers, they have the firepower, but _we _have the passion! We have the courage!" Stoick shouted. There was another round of cheers. "I love each and every one of you fiercely, for you are my people. It's my duty to protect you, and now that duty falls to you, too. It is _our _duty to protect this village, to protect our families, and protect our dragons!"

"_Aye!"_

"So fight swiftly, fight wisely, and let's send these invaders tumbling down to Hel!"

The next round of cheering was cacophonous, a pounding thunderclap of furious noise. Stoick turned now to face the sea, squinting at the approaching fleet of ships. They'd begun to pivot in the distance, altering their course to approach from the southeast. Hiccup and Astrid separated from the crowd and stepped up beside the Chief, joining him in his silent watch. The sleek ships of Drago's army were almost black, as if darkness itself was rolling across the ocean to overtake Berk. Drago's flagship sailed at the head of the group, an enormous sail at its center bearing his insignia painted in black.

"When those men reach land," Stoick murmured, so softly that only Hiccup and Astrid could hear, "all Hel is going to break loose."

"We will stop them, Chief," Astrid said, persistently resolute.

Rather than reply to Astrid's insistence, Stoick merely turned his head, looking upon his son and daughter-in-law. He reached out one meaty hand and clasped it around Hiccup's shoulder, the faintest hint of a tight smile visible through his thick, red beard.

"No matter what happens, I am so proud of you both," he said, firm. He turned his attention back to the ships, exhaling a great, weary sigh. Then, he squared his shoulders and released a deep bellow. _"Catapults!"_

Crude machinery whirred as it was kicked into action, the heavy _clunk_ of ammunition settling into buckets filling the air. Towers on either side of the cliff came alive with shouts, and the boulders were promptly lit on fire. After a few more organizing hollers, the catapults launched one after the other, sending flaming boulders rocketing into the air. A second volley promptly followed, adding to the assault.

The boulders roared as they flew, filling the sky with a hungry rumble as flames completely consumed them. Berk's warriors watched in eerie silence as the projectiles began to plummet down, raining towards the ships.

The resulting explosions were loud and clear to the Berkians, flame and rock crashing into the wooden frames of a few ships. Some of the boulders missed and landed in the water, but a resounding cheer went up as the majority of the projectiles hit their mark. Flames climbed high into the sky from one of the ships on the fleet's front row, torching its sail into ash. A ring of explosions rocked the deck, and in response, the vessel suddenly listed to one side.

Berkians howled as the battered ship sank, forcing a few behind it to steer out of the way as the vessel slowly slipped beneath the waves. Stoick, Gobber, Hiccup, and Astrid remained resolute.

"I hope there weren't any dragons on that ship," Gobber said. In response, Hiccup whipped out his spyglass, peering through the tube.

"Not seeing any traps on the sinking one, or any of the ships on the front line. They must be further back,"

"Maybe they figured we'd do this, and they want to protect their best assets?" Astrid guessed.

Hiccup shrugged as he lowered the spyglass. "Probably. Either way, I'm glad we're at least not killing any dragons."

"Yet…" Stoick mumbled. Hiccup threw him a cross look, but he didn't dare retort. There was no doubt that Drago would use the dragon part of his dragon army to lay siege to Berk. The formal orders given to every Berk soldier were to try and incapacitate any hostile dragons without killing them, resorting to taking a dragon's life only if it meant preserving a Berkian one. Obviously, no one on the island wanted to kill any dragons today, but the possibility of it was hanging over the tribe's heads like a rumbling thunderhead.

Still, he hoped that it wouldn't come to that. His hands had never before been stained with dragon's blood, and he wanted that to continue. Strange how a village of people that barely five years ago had lived for the slaughter of dragons now squirmed at the idea of harming them.

"Again!" Stoick barked, and another volley of burning boulders went flying at the encroaching ships. The second wave of boulders was more effective, sending two ships sinking beneath the waves.

As those ships slipped below the sea, the first black shapes began lifting into the air, mere specks in the evening sky. More quickly followed, black silhouettes multiplying as the small group became a horde. Hiccup again peered through his spyglass, already knowing what was coming but still finding the need to see it for himself.

"Are those…?" Gobber started, mouth hanging slightly open in disbelief.

"Dragons," Hiccup said, a shiver crawling down his spine.

Stoick raised his voice, eyes fixed on the shapes that were quickly growing in size. "Here they come! Everyone, move!"

The crowd splintered, breaking off into clusters as the buzzing of dragons echoed in their ears. Reptilian shapes blazed over the island, a sound like many small explosions erupting in the still air overhead and filling the quiet village with terrible noise. Berkians ran in every direction, weapons and shields raised as dragons rained fire into the town. Rooftops erupted in flashes of flame, though many of them were easily extinguished as people filled the town and cut the ropes holding the fire prevention systems in place. Fountains of water gushed down on top of several houses, extinguishing their fires and soaking the wood in water to prevent any future blazes.

Hiccup looked over his shoulder at the sky, watching in shock as dragons of countless species darted above them, glittering scales and guttural roars filling his senses. Astrid was no longer by his side, lost in the scrum of the sprint away from the cliff. Catapult towers continued to fire boulders at the fleet, but beams of fire began to destroy the structures one by one and make them useless.

It was the first dragon raid on Berk in five years.

He pocketed the spyglass and grabbed his sword as dragons started to land, quickly swarmed by groups of Vikings. Even in the sudden heat of battle, Hiccup could see that his people were holding back as they engaged the invading dragons, pulling their punches as they swung for dragons' legs and struck with the blunt ends of their weapons. Some creatures took to the air only to return to another area, rabid in their attack on the village.

In front of him, three Thunderclaws landed with a thud, growling and gnashing their teeth as their throats glowed with fire. Hiccup raised his sword in defense and a dozen more Vikings flanked him. The Thunderclaws snarled and charged, opening their mouths full of sharp teeth and blasting fire. The other Vikings stood shoulder to shoulder and lowered their shields, protecting Hiccup as well, and the flames bounced off the sturdy screens, leaving nothing but benign scorch marks behind.

Now on the offensive, the Berkians charged the trio of armored dragons. Forced into close combat, the three Thunderclaws fought back with teeth and claws, but the Berkians were all too accustomed with how to best dragons up close. In seconds, the dragons were easily taken down, knocked into unconsciousness by a few well-aimed, powerful swings. With more dragons to fight in the distance, those who had come to Hiccup's aid ran off once more, leaving him behind just outside the village square.

The sunlight danced off one of the dragons' metal helmets, catching Hiccup's eye. He approached the incapacitated Thunderclaw, now alone yet still surrounded by the sounds of battle. The steel was exquisite, much unlike what was commonly found on Berk and carried by traders, and the same symbol that had been on the flagship's sails marked the armor towards the top of the Thunderclaw's head. It seemed that everything about Drago's army was foreign.

Another dragon landed with a crash close to Hiccup, this time a Changewing. He must've looked like easy pickings to the acid-spitting dragon, alone and thin and not at all meaty or muscular like the other Vikings filling the town. Not the first time he'd been judged as such. The dragon snarled, dirtied red scales gleaming in the evening sun. Another lustrous helmet-like plate covered its head, leaving only its eyes, nose, and mouth exposed and marking the beast as Drago's.

"Nice Changewing…" Hiccup cooed. The dragon gnashed its teeth, apparently contradicting him. Still, Hiccup persevered. "I'm not your enemy."

The Changewing disagreed, snarling again before parting its maw to spray a fountain of toxic, green acid.

Hiccup dove out of the way with a colorful swear word. The acid splattered on the dirt where he'd been standing, and the Changewing quickly snapped its mouth shut to stare him down as he leaped to his feet. Hiccup drew Inferno and ignited it, holding it out in front of him defensively. The dragon eyed the flaming blade, briefly intrigued by it, and then charged, extending its wings so as to appear larger while snapping its teeth.

Hiccup deftly dodged out of the way and spun his sword, the flames catching the wind and flickering as he went. The Changewing convulsed as it landed past him, whirling around and snarling. Under its wings, Hiccup now caught a glimpse of the blackened bruises coloring its underbelly. This dragon was not at its best.

Hiccup reached for the pouch on his hip, easily unbuttoning it and grabbing a capsule of Zippleback gas. The Changewing roared and lunged again, so Hiccup expertly slung the small capsule at the dragon. It hit its mark and promptly exploded, stopping the Changewing in its tracks as thick green gas filled its senses, visibly lulling it. It now affixed Hiccup with significantly less aggression, though Hiccup would consider the dragon to be slightly drugged.

He clicked a button on Inferno's hilt and more Zippleback gas spewed out the other end of the weapon. He curled the flaming blade down and it ignited the gas, briefly creating a ring of fire around him that drew the Changewing's curiosity even more, painting his body in the musky scent of another dragon.

_Please don't try to kill me,_ he thought to himself as he inched toward the cautious dragon, holding out his hand. These tricks tended to work on wild dragons, but he wasn't sure about a dragon that had been clearly beaten and broken to obedience. Fortunately, the Changewing didn't charge again, though it did bare its teeth. The gas appeared to be wearing off.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Hiccup fretted, crouching and setting Inferno in the dirt. As he stood back up, he slipped his arms into the catches on his armor and unveiled his leather wings. At this, the Changewing's eyes widened, and its nostrils expanded rapidly as it sniffed from a safe distance. Whether it was smelling him, Toothless, or the draconic gas, Hiccup couldn't be sure, but the acid-spitting dragon relaxed enough for him to approach so that he was barely an arm's reach away.

The steel plating armoring the dragon's head glittered as Hiccup reached for it. The Changewing bristled but didn't lash out. "I'm gonna get this thing off of you, okay?" Hiccup said, looking into the dragon's eyes. The Changewing seemed alert at the notion, as if stunned by Hiccup's kindness.

Using the opportunity, Hiccup clasped his hands on the lower edge of the plate and yanked, lifting the metal up. The Changewing reacted, scrambling backwards and thrashing a bit. It caught Hiccup off-guard, but ultimately made removing the armor easier, letting Hiccup jerk the helmet up and off of the Changewing's head and drop it to the ground.

It took the red-scaled dragon a moment to realize that the helmet was off. The Changewing blinked rapidly, shaking its relieved head and eyeing the steel plate. Hiccup carefully stepped over the discarded metal, offering an outstretched hand to the enslaved dragon. The acid-spitter rumbled with a low growl, but as it glanced Hiccup over, it started to relax. He had relieved it of its armor, after all. Of its chains.

So, after another moment's hesitation, the Changewing inched forward and pressed its muzzle into Hiccup's gloved hand, closing its eyes and exhaling. After a moment of holding its head there, the dragon backed off and flapped its wings, taking off into the sky and flying away.

"Find somewhere safe, big guy," Hiccup said.

Just then, a great shout went up, echoing through the village. The sounds of hundreds of men carried, their fast, heavy footsteps reaching Hiccup's ears like a great thunderclap. Dragons and Vikings alike craned their necks toward the docks, the former group mostly taking to the air all at once.

"Oh, no… no, no, no," Hiccup stammered, grabbing Inferno before bolting between two houses and racing to the edge of the island. The top of the ramp leading to the docks was overflowing with black-clad soldiers, armored from head to toe and carrying all manner of gruesome weapons in their hands. Hiccup avoided them, continuing to the edge of the steep cliff that overlooked the harbor.

As he skidded to a stop, the sight of a hundred huge ships filled his vision, with dozens more unable to cram their numbers near the harbor and instead anchoring out in the shallows. Planks connected the ships that were able to reach the docks, and soldiers streamed across them and disembarked onto the moorings, merging into a single force and charging up the ramps to attack the village.

He couldn't afford to keep standing still, so he turned on his heel and bolted back into the village, igniting his sword once more. There were more already in the town. The first soldier he saw had his back turned to him, grappling with a Viking man wielding a hammer. Hiccup sprinted, his footsteps tipping the soldier off to his approach. The invader shoved his foe back and turned slightly, raising his weapon to face Hiccup. Hiccup danced out of the way of the soldier's first swing, adjusting and catching the second strike with the gap running down the middle of his sword. With a quick jerk, Hiccup ripped the sword out of the invader's grip, and the other Berkian that had been in the fight sideswiped the soldier across the back of the head with his hammer. The man crumpled to the ground instantly, completely still and quite possibly dead.

"Thanks for the help, Hiccup," the Berkian said.

Hiccup quickly shrugged, "One down, too many more to go." He and the Viking ran into the ensuing battle in the village square. Soldiers stepped over the bodies of dragons, some merely unconscious and a few others bleeding out, engaging whoever they saw. In many cases, a single Berkian fought against at least two invaders. Despite Drago's numbers, the Vikings of Berk were infinitely better fighters. Still, that meant that each individual Viking could be swarmed, and if Drago's soldiers began to realize this, Berk's only advantage would be shot.

Hiccup ran through the battle, lending support where he could and stubbornly avoiding being the one to deal any killing blows. The violence was already making him sick, and it just might have done him in if he wasn't instead stressing more about where Astrid had disappeared to. He'd made at least one loop around the village, and her familiar fountain of blonde hair or unmistakable armored shoulder pads were nowhere to be seen.

Hiccup swore. Where _was _she?

* * *

An enormous man crept up the ramp, curly, black dreadlocks covering the image of his scarred face like some kind of veil. The sounds of war echoed from his destination, and dragons of all shapes and sizes circled the village from above. It was the usual attack plan; strike first with a horde of dragons, have the Alpha pull them out and offer to accept surrender. Those who refused were put to the sword.

He _had_ skipped the step about offering quarter, though. Something had told him that the Berkians would not back down. In the port, air bubbles roiled in the sea, the residue of the Alpha resting underwater, ready to be called upon at any moment. Even as it rested, its all-powerful mind held his dragons in sway, keeping them close to the island.

When Drago Bludvist reached the top of the ramp, he didn't flinch at the chaos playing out before him. Warriors from both sides fought zealously, one faction defending their village and the other aiming to lay waste to it. Drago's bullhook remained steady in his hand as he immediately noticed that something wasn't right.

"Where are their dragons?" he sneered. His three generals—Griselda, Krogan, and Chaghatai Khan flanked him, having been waiting for his arrival at the edge of the village. The three of them could not be more different from one another. Griselda was cold and efficient, desiring results above all else. She was a Slav, taken long ago from her home far beyond this wretched island and freed from slavery by Drago himself. He'd quickly taken a liking to her; the misery of thralldom had not extinguished her fire, and he trained her to become a frightening warrior. The men in the army had eventually christened her "the Grievous" for her prowess in battle.

Krogan was cunning but loyal, perhaps out of fear. The olive-skinned man was from the Mediterranean, dwelling on a miserable island that Drago had attacked in order to conscript men for his army. Krogan had been one of the first volunteers, earning his place over years of service. Still, he kept a close eye on him at all times. Krogan was the type to take any opportunity to get ahead.

Lastly, Chaghatai Khan was the most traveled general, hailing from a land far to the east. They'd first met as opposition to one another, though they shared a common hatred of dragons. The Khan was a spectacular commander in his own right, but he answered to Drago because he was a firm believer in the warlord's goals. He was brutish and strong, a killer like Griselda, but he also often had unique takes in certain situations that turned out to be correct against all odds, made wise by his years as a conqueror.

"There aren't any here, my lord. It's only ours tonight," Krogan replied.

Drago growled. "Impossible. That woman would not have told us of this island simply to get her people killed." He looked at Chaghatai Khan, eyes narrowed. The matter of the woman and man who had tried to assassinate him was the Khan's most recent blunder, and while those were few and far between, Drago did not enjoy tolerating mistakes. It was the Khan who had convinced him to spare the two Vikings in order to use them for ransom. When they escaped during the Dragon Rider's raid, Drago had wanted to beat the Khan within an inch of his life. But he'd relented, generously he might add, and told Chaghatai that he expected him to make up for his failure in a big way once they reached Berk.

"Perhaps we should consider this a training exercise. More battle experience can only help our men, and our numbers are too great for the Vikings to actually win," Griselda said.

Nearby, a Viking buried a greatsword through the chest of one of Drago's men, killing him instantly. The warrior ripped his weapon free with a flash of crimson blood, and his crazed eyes fell upon Drago and the three generals.

With a great yell, the Viking charged at them.

"They seem to be doing fairly well so far," Krogan answered, deadpan.

"I'll handle this," Griselda snarled, colder than ice. She bounded forward, unsheathing her own sword from her hip. The steel sang a haunting song and the Slavic woman engaged the approaching Viking, parrying his attack and swiftly dodging around him.

Within ten seconds, Griselda was cleaving her sword through the Viking's flesh, opening his stomach so that blood and gore spilled out. The Viking hollered a dying scream and crumpled, feebly reaching for his lost sword but going still before he could close his fingers around its hilt.

Griselda stooped down to wipe the blood from her sword with the Viking's tunic, sheathing the blade after the fact and stalking back to her place.

"Their dragons are here somewhere, I know it," Drago said, sneering. "Find them, and do not fail me."

The three generals nodded, accepting, and raced off into the village, each of them hoping to be the one to fulfill Drago's orders, however necessary. On the cliff by the docks, Drago waited, the metal shaft of his bullhook cold in his hands. He listened to the hiss of air produced by the bubbles in the sea, and surprisingly, he smiled.

His destiny, he believed, was nearly at hand.

* * *

Cloudjumper heard the rustling long before she did.

The Stormcutter craned his great neck high so that he could look up at the rim of the dome. Valka tensed up. Berk's women and children, as well as all of their dragons, were about to arrive.

"Cloudjumper, come. We mustn't scare them away," Valka hissed. The large dragon tutted in protest but obeyed, following Valka in the opposite direction to where the trees cast a great deal of shade around them. Valka knew it was imperative not to frighten the women and children before they entered the cove. If they saw her before they ever made it down, they might not listen to her. They might turn and run, searching for somewhere else to hide, and that simply would not do.

The first Berkians reached the ridge jutting out from the cove wall and looked around, seeing nothing that immediately alarmed them and making their way down the concealed path that led further down. Valka kept her eyes fixed on the cave mouth as more and more people filtered in. Cloudjumper stirred and she held her hand up at him, easily telling the dragon _not now._

When the dragons finally appeared, it was like the last bits of doubt that Valka were suddenly washed away. Hiccup had told her enough about Berk and its new ways, but seeing was believing, and there was plenty to see now. Dragons of all shapes and sizes filed in, most of them hanging close to a group—possibly a family. The beasts were carrying the brunt of the loads that the people of Berk had brought with them, and many sported saddles on their backs.

Berk was truly one with dragons, and it was astounding.

One by one, Berk's people and dragons reached the floor of the cove, spreading out to claim a reasonable amount of space for each family. Valka chose that moment to emerge and reveal herself. She carefully stepped out of the shadows, and Cloudjumper stayed close to her side. She didn't really know how to announce herself—should she call out? Greet them? Yell unintelligibly like a marauder? Valka wasn't sure how to be a _Viking_ anymore.

It turned out that they were going to take care of that for her. Someone, though she couldn't say if a dragon or a person noticed her first, saw her coming and stifled a shout. The sound was enough to spread the word through the quiet group, and all eyes suddenly flicked over to the masked stranger and her massive Stormcutter emerging into the evening light.

A bolt of panic blitzed through the crowd. Voices bubbled up to the surface, steadily rising as fear began to close a fist around the group, and dragons showed their teeth and burned the gases in their throats in warning.

Valka instantly held her hands up, realizing that her staff was clenched in one of them. "Peace! Peace!" she fretted, and Cloudjumper let out a short grunt that apparently meant a great deal to the dragons protecting the Berkians. Valka squatted to the ground and gently rested her staff in the grass. She wondered how she looked to these people in her armor. "There's no need to be frightened. I'm a friend," she insisted.

The women didn't look particularly convinced. Many of them had wrapped their arms around their children, keeping them close as they stared at her. The dragons around them relaxed considerably. There was a very small group of warriors on the boundaries of the group, and each of them leveled their weapons in Valka's direction.

"Who are you?" a woman asked, holding her arms around two children that must've been hers and clutching them against her chest.

"I'm a friend. Hiccup asked me to help him. I'm here to keep you safe, _all _of you," Valka explained, cautiously stepping closer to the group. The mention of the heir to Berk sent a ripple of calm through the skittish crowd. Mothers exchanged looks with one another back and forth, and dragons mulled about neutrally. Valka could hear some of the chatter, and much of it centered on the apathy of the dragons in the face of a stranger. She smiled inwardly. Cloudjumper had worked his magic. If the dragons trusted them, it would be that much easier for the Berkians to trust them.

"Hiccup knows you?" someone asked. Valka turned her head, gaze shifting across the crowd to follow the voice. She was already formulating a response on her tongue as she scanned the throng of people.

"Y—" Valka stopped short as she found who was speaking to her. Her legs suddenly weighed a ton, keeping her rooted to the spot. Her throat dried up like the sun had come out and shined inside her mouth, making her mute as she took in the Viking's features. The blonde of the woman's hair was beginning to weaken twenty years later, but her blue eyes were just as powerful and entrapped Valka completely.

She didn't know what to say to her long-lost friend, the mother of her daughter-in-law. Edna Hofferson stood tall, even though Valka would still tower over her, and she looked conflicted. Once upon a time, they had been good friends; not as close as Valka was with, say, Gobber, but they still knew and cherished one another. They had been with child at similar times, and they might've come to term closer together had Hiccup not insisted on arriving early. They'd fantasized more than once about who their children would be. Valka had hoped that she would have a son and Edna a daughter, or alternatively the other way around, for she liked the woman so and enjoyed the idea of their families becoming joined one day. If the gods had deemed them to bear children of the same sex, she'd hoped that their children would be the best of friends. Either way, she'd desired their children to be even closer than she and Edna were.

More or less, she'd gotten her wish. She had never again expected to see Edna, however, and seeing the Hofferson woman now, proud and still kicking and suddenly very obviously Astrid's mother, she wasn't sure what to say.

"He does," she decided, "He's entrusted me with making certain you are all safe. I'm going to keep watch nearby to ensure that none of Drago's men come near here."

"Are they going to be alright? Our warriors?" another woman asked, defensively.

Valka frowned behind her mask. "I don't know. It is out of our hands, now." The crowd buzzed with nervous murmurs and she immediately tried to walk it back, "What I mean is that we must pray for their safety. Berk's warriors are strong—the _strongest_—and they are capable of prevailing today. But we must be vigilant if they are to do so."

That seemed to lift the spirits of most of the women, though some still eyed her suspiciously or frowned. The dragons remained unbothered, and that seemed to push the idea that she was being sincere. People began to mill about, grabbing things from their dragons or sitting down in the grass with children.

One child came bounding up to her, a full head of russet locks pooling around his head. He was a wee thing, no more than a few years old. Valka startled as the boy drew close, if only because she hadn't been expecting such a direct action. The boy beamed adorably, and it reminded Valka of how she had missed being able to see her own son at this age. His smile must've been _beautiful_ at the time. Not for the first time, scalding guilt welled up inside her gut, making her feel sick.

"Is your dragon nice?" the boy inquired, a lilt in his voice only adding to his cuteness. Valka couldn't discern any notable features from the boy, nothing that tipped her off to who his parents might be. Judging by his age, he must've been the child of someone who had been a toddler when she left. The realization struck Valka that the boy had almost definitely been born after Hiccup had defeated the Red Death—he had never known war with dragons, only that they were friends. What a lucky young Viking…

Valka realized that she had been paused for entirely too long. She mentally scrambled to spit out a response, turning to look at Cloudjumper.

"He is. His name is Cloudjumper," she added, trying for at least a hint of camaraderie, "He likes it when you pet his ears." Valka motioned with her hand for Cloudjumper to lower his head, which the Stormcutter gladly agreed to, resting his bulky head on the ground. The child's eyes lit up, so much smaller than the beast lying down in front of him, and he stumbled forward with rampant curiosity gushing from every part of him.

But a woman's voice halted him. "Yakspit, come away!" the little boy froze and looked over his shoulder, where a mother was looking indignantly towards him and Valka. The boy's shoulders immediately sagged, and when he spoke, he sounded heartbroken.

"Okay… bye, Clowjummer…" Yakspit mumbled. He turned and waddled back the way he'd come. Valka frowned underneath her armor, not missing the distrustful look that Yakspit's mother had sent her way. It was much to ask for Berk to immediately trust her, she understood that, but the sting of rejection was still there. Even twenty years later, she still felt unwelcome.

It made it easier to decide to go and fulfill the second part of her job. She deliberately walked in the other direction to put some space between her and the women of Berk, and Cloudjumper followed with a low rumble. Once she was a sufficient distance away, Valka twirled her staff in her hands and lifted it around to rest on her back.

"Let's get going, Cloudjumper. We'll need to keep a sharp eye on the battle," Valka mumbled. Cloudjumper answered by letting a rush of air out through his nose, and Valka turned to face the dragon's side so that she could climb onto his back and take off.

She would've done it and left without another word, just to be mildly spiteful, if not for the voice stopping her in her tracks. Again.

Except, this time, it was much worse.

"Valka?"

She had thought her blood had run cold the first time. By now, she knew exactly who was speaking to her, exactly who had come after her. Still, she needed to turn her head and look, to be sure that she wasn't just hearing things, that her mind wasn't pretending there was someone there speaking to her.

Edna Hofferson was standing there, a safe distance away from the rest of Berk's women and children. She had spoken softly enough that only Valka could hear her, so that what was about to happen could stay only between them.

She looked so afraid, Valka realized. Or maybe that wasn't it. Maybe it was a mix of emotions. Fear. Disbelief. Anger? But never confusion. She was absolutely certain, staring Valka down with that fierce look that she had never forgotten about even after twenty years, a look that had always convinced her that Edna had been a Viking born in the wrong land, a mistake by the gods that had surely condemned her to a life of nothing but fishing had that storm not blown her family's boat off-course.

How did Edna know? She had been sure to not give away much to go off of. She was supposed to be a stranger to them. She had even tried to talk differently, just enough that no one would think they were speaking to one of their own. But she hadn't fooled Edna. The woman had seen through her without any physical evidence Valka could think of.

She didn't know what to say. Part of her wanted to run, to forget this was happening. But she had a duty. She owed her son much, and what he needed from her right now trumped all of her self-doubt and uncertainty and concern. Berk needed her, and she would answer the call.

So, she said the only thing she could think of, the only thing that would get her out of this situation the most cleanly. Words that would damn her and cast off the mask and the mystery that she'd hid behind for twenty years long. Words that she hadn't thought that she would ever say again.

"Hello, Edna."

She climbed onto Cloudjumper, told the dragon to go, and refused to look back.

* * *

Hiccup lurched a step backward and raised his sword, the light of its flames reflecting off of his sweaty skin. One of Drago's soldiers had crossed his path and charged, swinging a heavy sword madly at him. Inferno clanged against the foreigner's blade and both of them paced back a step. They danced lethally against one another, the marauder's sword longer and fatter than the likes of Inferno. Hiccup caught another swing and twisted, using his natural agility to knock the soldier off-balance.

Hiccup kicked the soldier's leg out from under him, sending the armored man toppling to the ground. He landed with a cough, wheezing as he lost the wind in his lungs. Hiccup recalled Inferno by his head, holding it defensively and looking down at the soldier. The invader wasn't wearing his helmet, so he could clearly see his eyes, though he couldn't quite meet them.

It took a moment too long for Hiccup to realize that was because the soldier wasn't looking at him anymore.

He was looking _past_ him.

Hiccup turned his head, only to see the pommel of a sword hurtling at his head. With the weapon only inches away, Hiccup's only instinctive reaction was to turn his head down and flick his blade up, shielding himself from the incoming pommel. Inferno screamed as the unseen assailant struck it, and the force instantly bled from the sword into Hiccup's entire body, rattling him and igniting his skin with a flash freeze of pins and needles.

Hiccup howled in pain as he fell to the ground, wincing and holding his shoulder, where the majority of the stress had concentrated as a result of the blow. He looked up, squinting as his eyes managed to make out a red tunic and a full set of brass armor. The assailant sported a familiar beard and held two swords, one in each hand.

Chaghatai Khan; one of Drago's three generals.

"Find someone else to kill," the heavily armed general ordered, eyes fixed on the soldier that Hiccup had just been engaged with. The soldier returned to his feet shakily. Chaghatai shifted his eyes down at Hiccup's prone form, flashing a sickening smile. "This one is mine."

The soldier ran off and Chaghatai continued to watch Hiccup, even allowing him to return to his feet. The general's twin swords were slick with blood, making Hiccup sick to his stomach as he stood.

"Do you know what a Khan is, boy?" the general huffed, "In my homeland, the Khans raise great armies to destroy their enemies. Tremendous fighters, earning their way to the top."

"I'm guessing you fall into that category?" Hiccup drawled.

Chaghatai chuckled, grinning. "Very observant." His eyes flicked up and down Hiccup's lean shape. "Where is your Night Fury, boy?" the Khan asked, circling with Hiccup as war waged around them.

"Long gone. You'll never catch him," Hiccup snapped, slowly raising his sword. His shoulder still hurt, the pain almost paralyzing, but he bit down on his tongue and willed it to go away just for a few minutes.

Chaghatai Khan chuckled, slowly raising both of his swords so that the evening sun reflected off of them, giving Hiccup a good look at how pristine the metal was even through the blood clinging to the blades. "I think you're lying," the general said, "Drago will enjoy making you talk. He's missed you. You left without saying goodbye."

"I've never really responded well to imprisonment. I'm not sure which parent I got that from," Hiccup growled, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. He looked the Khan in his amber eyes, hoping to convince him of a different course of action. "You don't have to do this. You can stop the fighting. There's a better way than this, I can prove it to you. You don't have to serve Drago."

Chaghatai shook his head doggedly. "I serve him willingly. Drago Bludvist is a man of vision. For centuries men have blindly killed dragons for sport, wearing their skins like some symbol of status and never once considering the power and potential they extinguished by slaying them," the Khan explained.

Hiccup nodded at the Khan's words, thinking that maybe he was getting somewhere. He just had to steer him in his direction. "We realized our wrongs, too. Dragons are good creatures. They're our friends."

Chaghatai Khan shook his head, flashing a dreadful grin, "Wrong again, boy. Dragons are the greatest military creation nature could ever gift us with, and instead of using that, we've been sitting on our hands and murdering them by the thousands to make ourselves look good."

Hiccup faltered at that, disappointed. Chaghatai pointed the blade of his sword directly at Hiccup, "A dozen dragons will accomplish more than a hundred soldiers could ever hope to. So, a man with hundreds of dragons backing him up is a man with an army that can never be defeated. Drago has the power to control the dragons, and with them fighting by his side, we will usher in a new age of prosperity."

"Except they _don't_ fight by his side. He controls them against their will with the Alpha!" Hiccup snapped, his grip on his sword tightening out of rage.

The Khan's eyes narrowed, rasping, "At the end of the day, does it really matter?" With that, Chaghatai came hurtling towards him, swords at the ready.

Hiccup rolled out of the way, the pain in his shoulder dulling as adrenaline coursed through his blood anew. He swung Inferno, the blazing blade humming in the wind, only for Chaghatai to block the swing with one of his swords. Sparks showered off of Inferno's flaming edge, instantly extinguishing as they pelted the dirt below. Using brute strength, Chaghatai pushed Hiccup's sword down and out of the way, bringing his second weapon back.

Hiccup thrashed uselessly, unable to break the Khan's hold. "Don't worry," Chaghatai taunted, a sick smile scrawled across his face, "I'll be gentle."

That was when a blur came rushing in, a flash of dark hair and lean muscle darting into Chaghatai's side. A blade sank through a gap in the Khan's armor, peeling back and bringing a spurt of blood with it. Chaghatai Khan hollered, his strong stance instantly deflating. With a snarl, he swung his unoccupied sword at the offender, only for the muscular young man he was aiming at to jump back out of the blade's reach.

Eret smirked, and Hiccup seized his chance. He retaliated with a wicked kick at Chaghatai's unprotected hand, hearing a sickening _crack_ as he broke at least one of the general's fingers. The Khan howled in surprise and Hiccup ripped his sword free, jumping back and parrying as Chaghatai attempted a haphazard swing in revenge. Hiccup took another few steps back, sword at the ready as the Khan looked back and forth between his pair of enemies.

"Sorry I'm late to the party," Eret greeted, sheathing a bloodied knife into his belt. He reached down to his waist and yanked two shortswords from the scabbards there, blades he'd received from Gobber earlier. Hiccup half-smiled, grateful for Eret's timely intervention.

"You're right on time," Chaghatai growled, shifting his gaze back and forth between Eret and Hiccup. The general smiled wickedly, declaring, "Now, it's a challenge!"

Eret jerked forward and Chaghatai parried both of his blades with just one of his own. When Hiccup advanced from the other side, the Khan swung his second sword in a vicious arc. Hiccup tightened his grip on his sword as the Khan's connected with his own, holding on and trying to disarm the general.

"That won't work on me, boy," the Khan seethed, and he shoved Hiccup back.

"You're looking a little injured there, Khan. What's the matter? Too proud to call for backup?" Eret hurled an insult, bracing against Chaghatai's powerful push.

"I don't need help to deal with a traitor and the runt of the litter," Chaghatai shot back. Hiccup's eyes narrowed and he reared back for another swing, going on the offensive. The general stiffened and parried Hiccup's swing, quickly looking over the other shoulder to grapple with Eret. The trapper unleashed a flurry of quick strikes, using his light weapons to his advantage, but Chaghatai proved himself to be more than a match, twisting his heavy greatsword with staggering skill and quickness. All the while, the Khan remained incredibly steadfast against Hiccup, completely blocking any attempt to disarm him.

"You're both looking tired. You must not be accustomed to real battle," Chaghatai taunted. "Let me teach you a lesson!"

Without warning, Chaghatai leaned into Hiccup and shoved him back, suddenly pulling his second sword away from Eret to swing with both weapons at Hiccup. The Khan's blades crashed against Hiccup's with a resounding _clang,_ hitting with such force that his grip nearly shattered in just one blow. Eret found himself hesitating at the unexpected move, and that second of uncertainty allowed Chaghatai to take a second swing at Hiccup. The young Chief-to-be tried to parry, slotting the Khan's swords in the gap between his own blade, but with two weapons piloted by a very strong man, Hiccup couldn't even attempt to disarm. Instead, Chaghatai ripped Hiccup's sword from his grip.

Instantly, the Khan pivoted as Eret ran at him, slinging Inferno and its flaming blade straight at the trapper. Eret promptly ducked, but as he tried to raise to his feet, he had to lift his weapons to deflect Chaghatai's incoming swords, instantly finding himself pushed to his knees thanks to his unfavorable position. Chaghatai reared up and smacked Eret's swords away with another swing. With Eret now unarmed, the Khan lifted his leg and dealt a swift kick to the trapper's chest, pounding his ruptured flesh with a heavy boot. Eret yelled as he tumbled into the dirt, his new burn scars flaring up with crippling pain.

"Now," the Khan drawled, standing tall and pointing a weapon at each of his adversaries. "Let's go see Drago."

* * *

Astrid yelled, bringing her axe down on one of Drago's fallen men. The blade carved into the soldier's leg, splitting through the light armor and slashing the man's thigh. Crimson blood spilled from the wound and Astrid quickly stalked off, unwilling to watch the man die before her eyes. She admittedly felt a twinge of guilt; killing was not something that she enjoyed, but rather a necessity that she had to accept. The way of the world was kill or be killed, and she had no intentions of dying.

She came running down the path, surrounded by battle. She had lost Hiccup in the fray, and every passing minute amplified her fear for his wellbeing. She had no idea what she would do if she lost him, but it certainly wouldn't be anything good. Up ahead, her tribesmen squared off with more men in black. Up close and personal, she saw the diversity in Drago's army. Berk's people were fair-skinned and uniform, while Drago's men sported all different kinds of skin colors and distinguishing features. Drago had been around the world, seen all kinds of people that the Vikings of Berk would never see, gathering his strength for Odin knows how long. It was as if all of Midgard itself had converged on Berk at once and taken up arms.

And judging by the state of the streets, she could see that Berk was losing the battle. There were too many Berkian bodies on the ground already, some wounded and clinging to life, others bloodied and lifeless. Astrid recognized every face. And although the remaining Vikings continued to stand strong, Drago's numbers would eventually wear them down. Even if they could push them back, there was still the matter of the dragons hovering above the village, waiting patiently for the moment they might be needed.

"_Raaaah!" _a soldier yelled, sprinting at Astrid from her left. Astrid ducked and rolled back, avoiding the horizontal swing of the soldier's greatsword. He was larger than Astrid in both height and girth, but she knew all too well the advantages that presented her with instead. With a speed that her attacker could only dream of possessing, Astrid dove forward to avoid another strike and then swung her axe in a lethal arc, slashing the soldier's neck open. Blood practically exploded from the fresh wound, rushing out in a crimson fountain. The soldier toppled against his own sword, wedging the weapon between himself and the ground as he died.

Astrid hadn't realized that she was baring her teeth until she looked up and felt her expression change. Thirty feet in front of her, a familiar shape was squaring off against a Viking. The woman was lean and covered from head to toe in metallic armor; her helmet sported a pair of ridiculous antler-like decorations, the rest of her head beyond her face protected by a leather covering. Her torso was covered in a strange sheet of armor made from miniature metal rings, and an empty scabbard was attached to her hip, the sword that belonged within it held tightly in one hand.

It was Griselda, one of Drago's generals. The warrior woman spun her sword with impressive speed, deflecting any of her foe's attacks and also wearing him down. The Viking man battling her had long, curly red hair that was braided into a long tail that nearly touched his waist. Astrid recognized him as Ringworm, one of her father's friends. He was a muscular warrior, wielding a light but sharp axe that allowed him to combat Griselda's pace, if only barely.

Ringworm forced an opening in Griselda's defense and swung his axe gleefully, expecting to tear into her abdomen with a killing blow. The axe struck home, but the peculiar armor covering Griselda's torso stopped the weapon in its tracks, saving her from what should've been a fatal gash.

The armor's surprising strength startled Ringworm for just long enough, and Griselda struck the man's axe with her sword and swiftly disarmed him, instantly going for Ringworm's neck. Her sword speared clean through, its thin point protruding slightly through the back of Ringworm's neck before she ripped it free. Instantly, Griselda backpedaled, watching with malicious satisfaction as blood spilled from her foe's neck.

Ringworm crumpled to the ground, and Astrid ran to him, appearing over him as the man stared straight up into the sky.

"Ringworm!" Astrid yelled, but Ringworm slowly blinked, indicating that he barely heard her.

"Astrid…" Ringworm croaked, dark blood leaking from his mouth and starting to trickle down his cheek, "Make sure my family will be safe. Tell my boys I love them. And Ragna, too." Ringworm and her father went way back, so their families were close. Astrid knew his wife, Ragna, and their two pre-teen sons, Ergot and Thrush. They both wanted to be dragon riders once they were old enough.

"I will," she promised. She placed a hand on the dying Viking's cheek, comforting him, "You're on your way to Valhalla now. The gods are waiting for you."

Ringworm smiled, proud even in death. "I can hear them. 'M sorry, Ragna… I have to go now…" he murmured nonsensically, and he tilted his head back as his muscles started to give out. His eyes grew glassy and he went still, slipping away from the realm of the living.

If not for the battle still raging around her, Astrid would've closed her eyes to mourn her fallen tribesman. She wasn't given that luxury. In front of her, the voice of Ringworm's killer slithered into her ears, bursting with molten hatred.

"You," Griselda hissed.

Astrid rose to her feet and turned on her heel, closing her fingers around the hilt of her axe as she stared Griselda down. "What about me?" she asked, eyes narrowing.

Griselda spun her sword once, bloodlust practically shimmering in her eyes. The woman was a monster, not unlike the man she called master. "You're coming with me," the woman general asserted.

"Enough chit-chat," Astrid fired back, "Let's get on with it."

Griselda grinned, as if she were actually pleased that Astrid wasn't up for small talk. "With pleasure," she drawled, and she rushed forward to engage Astrid.

Astrid lifted her axe to block Griselda's ensuing swing, tensing at the sound of metal crashing against metal. Griselda tried to twist, but Astrid moved with her, preventing herself from being disarmed and keeping Griselda close as well. The woman general bared her teeth, and Astrid cunningly kicked her in the groin, all too aware that she wouldn't be able to hurt Griselda in the traditional way.

Griselda grimaced and nearly doubled over, wisely attempting to backpedal as she recognized that she was exposing herself. Astrid took the opportunity to swing, aiming for Griselda's head and catching her cheek with her axe blade as the older woman tried to dodge. Griselda half-yelped, staggering backward several quick paces. With her free hand, she reached up to touch the fresh cut on her left cheek, sneering as she felt the sticky sensation of blood.

"Viking bitch," she snarled, "Give up now, and you'll be shown mercy."

"The words of a coward," Astrid spat. Griselda saw red, charging at Astrid once more. She reared her sword back with two hands and swung, so Astrid ducked and raised her axe to block as Griselda quickly brought her sword back in the direction it had just come. They rocked back and forth in the dance of combat, their weapons smashing against the other over and over again so that neither warrior woman made any progress.

That changed when Griselda decided to fight dirty, too. After the umpteenth clash of her sword against Astrid's axe, the woman general swept Astrid's leg, knocking the blonde off-balance. Astrid twisted out of the way to dodge Griselda's ensuing attack, sending her axe around in an arc behind her. Griselda caught the blade with her own, but the angle was awkward, and the steel of Astrid's axe dragged down her sword to cut the general's unprotected hand. Griselda hissed, but took advantage of Astrid's imbalance, easily jerking her axe out of her grip.

Griselda's boot was in Astrid's back before the axe even hit the ground. The woman general shoved Astrid to her knees, tapping the point of her sword to the back of Astrid's neck as if to execute her.

"I told you to give in," Griselda hissed.

"Never," Astrid fired back, taunting the Slavic woman, "Get it over with, or do I have to do it for you?" She was admittedly afraid, but not for herself. She wasn't afraid to be the one to die.

"Defiant until the end. I admire you," Griselda said. "But it's not your turn to die, not yet. As I said, you're coming with me."

Astrid dropped her hand to the ground, grabbing a fistful of dirt and whirling halfway around so that she could throw it in Griselda's eyes. The end of Griselda's sword nicked the base of Astrid's neck, but she got most of the dirt to hit her target, blinding Griselda and forcing the woman to stagger backward. Astrid dove for her axe, closing her fingers around it and rising to engage Griselda again.

Instead, though, a huge weight crashed into Griselda from behind, preceded by a roar. Griselda stumbled and Astrid saw Stoick tower above her, his hammer raised high. Without hesitation, he reared the hammer back and smashed the blunt face against the side of Griselda's helmet, mangling the metal exterior. The force of the blow sent Griselda crumpling to the ground, and she didn't resurface.

Astrid eyed the general's limp body for a second before turning her eyes on Stoick. "I had that one," she protested with just a little sarcasm.

Stoick merely shrugged as he tucked his hammer to a loop on his belt. The Chief was armed to the nines, a sheathed sword and a battle axe decorating his body in addition to the war hammer in his hand. Astrid couldn't remember seeing the axe when the battle began—where had he gotten that? Stoick looked over Astrid's shoulder, watching as the last of Drago's men in this part of the village were killed off. He too saw the bodies of his own people mixed within the corpses of the invaders, and his gaze felt heavy on Astrid's shoulders. Vikings marched up to the Chief at the sight of him, awaiting orders expectantly.

"I'm ordering a full retreat," Stoick announced, "We've lost too many in exchange for too little. Make for the woods and tell everyone you see. Wait for no one upon reaching the cove."

The Vikings present nodded, answering in unison with _'Aye, Chief'_ and shuffling off out of sight toward the sounds of fighting to the west. Fortunately, the platoon of soldiers that had come to this section of the village were dead or moved on.

"Have you seen Hiccup?" Stoick asked over the noise. His expression was tight, lines of worry cracking across his face. Astrid gulped.

"No. Have you?"

Stoick shook his head, the worry in his green eyes clear as day. He reached to his hip, fingers grasping underneath his fur cape so he could show her the hilt of a weapon. Astrid's head spun as she recognized the shape. Inferno rested in Stoick's hand; the dormant blade retracted inside. Astrid snatched the sword from her father-in-law, her hands quaking. Hiccup never parted with the sword voluntarily.

"We have to find him," Astrid asserted. Stoick nodded and they took off together, heading south along the main road. They rounded a house on the corner of the town square and walked in on a group of Vikings tangled up with a group of Drago's men. Astrid and Stoick charged in from behind, splintering the platoon of foreigners and helping the other Vikings finish them off.

Despite the success, Stoick was resolute. "Sound the retreat. Leave the island as soon as you're able."

"_Aye, Chief."_

Yet again, Astrid and Stoick took off along the southern pass. They passed the smithy and found themselves on the edge of the village. The cliffs and the docks were further to the south, with the town and the towering Great Hall to the north. To the west, the first few shapes of fleeing Vikings streamed into the forest.

Still, they hadn't found Hiccup.

"Maybe he's in the square. Maybe Gobber's with him?" Astrid suggested.

Stoick nodded fervently, "Maybe. Let's check—" he absently looked over his shoulder to the cliffs, where the soldiers had entered the village from. Astrid peered down the opposite road into the center of the village, where more fighting was going on.

"Hold on," the Chief grunted. Astrid craned her neck and followed Stoick's eyes, and her breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of a towering shape with black dreadlocks and a bullhook in hand, attended by two men in basic black armor and another large man dressed in magnificent red armor.

And at their feet, two bound shapes; one a lean man with a fur vest and black hair, and the other a spindly figure sporting a full outfit of riding armor and long, unmistakable dark auburn locks.

Stoick and Astrid shared a gasp. "Hiccup," the Chief hissed. His grip on his sword instantly tightened, but before he could take off, Astrid beat him to the punch, sprinting like a wild horse toward the scene. Her heart hammered in her chest, practically threatening to burst out from within as she leveled her axe.

Astrid planted her foot halfway up the hill and reared back her arm, her aim as true as it had ever been.

* * *

Hiccup clenched his fists, the ropes binding his wrists together chafing against his skin. He'd been stripped of his weapons, Inferno lost in the dirt somewhere. Chaghatai had been especially careful in their capture, rounding him and Eret up with the help of two soldiers he'd pulled from the battle. Once they were sufficiently apprehended, the Khan had marched them through the battle to the far side of the island.

The madman himself was at the top of a hill beyond the village, his back turned to the cliffs and the sea beyond them. His enormous fleet of ships floated in the water below, harbingers of destruction blackening Berk's harbor with their blight. Drago's long black dreadlocks framed his scarred face, and Hiccup shivered as a narrow, psychotic smile dawned on the warlord's face. His frightening bullhook dangled at his side, clenched in his fist.

"Drago!" Chaghatai Khan greeted all too happily, "I brought the boy, just as you asked! And I happened to stumble upon the trapper in the process. I hope you don't mind. They put up a good fight, but it was little trouble in the end."

Drago merely answered with a low grumble, his face hauntingly blank except for that smile. He motioned slightly with his bullhook, and the two men that had led Hiccup and Eret to the hilltop kicked at their knees, knocking them to the ground so that Drago stood over them. The Dragon God stared down at them both with ice-cold eyes, appraising them.

Then his haunting gaze shifted to Hiccup, and he took a massive step forward. His other arm emerged from behind the cloak covering his side, grabbing Hiccup's chin and forcing him to look up. The steel of the prosthetic was just as cold as the look in Drago's eyes, only adding to Hiccup's sense of mortal peril.

"Where are your dragons?" Drago rasped, commanding.

"Like I told your general, they're gone. It's just us now," Hiccup answered, "You'll never get your hands on them."

Drago snorted, letting go of Hiccup's head and taking a step back. He surveyed the village, grinning as he shifted his eyes to the horde of dragons circling the town, just waiting to be called into action.

"I wonder how many you will sacrifice to save your pets… how much of your people's blood needs to be spilled before you give in," Drago said, his voice scratching at Hiccup's eardrums so that it made him cower beneath the man's shadow. Drago Bludvist was quite possibly the largest man Hiccup had ever seen; every inch of his proportions made to strike fear in the hearts of those who looked upon him. Just looking at that alone, Hiccup could see why weaker people followed him.

"You don't have to do this," Hiccup pleaded, "Dragons aren't tools for war. They're kind, amazing creatures that can bring people together!"

Drago scoffed, a deriding smirk rising to his face. "Or tear them apart," he countered, stabbing his bullhook into the dirt and bringing his monstrous hand to his shoulder. He tugged on the metal limb, removing it entirely from his body to reveal an empty shoulder, a gruesome scar at the joint's end marking the point where his real arm had been severed long ago.

Drago replaced the prosthetic just as quickly as he'd removed it, reclaiming his bullhook and staring Hiccup down. "I know what it is to live in fear. It was all I ever knew as a boy, always watching over my shoulder and having to be ready to fight against the devils from the sky. Always having to avenge those I cared for."

"You lost someone," Hiccup concluded.

"I lost _everyone," _Drago corrected, his grip on his bullhook tightening as he walked a wide circle around Hiccup's bound form. Whatever horrors he'd experienced in the past, the so-called Dragon God wasn't over them, and despite all the evil he was consumed by, Hiccup couldn't help but feel just a bit of sympathy for Drago.

"You aren't alone. Most of the people here on Berk lost someone during the dragon wars. Some of us lost parts of ourselves," Hiccup said, looking over his shoulder and watching with satisfaction as Drago looked down and noticed his prosthetic foot. "And still we were able to look past our hatred, to forgive and forget."

"That is what makes you weak," Drago looked up, replying with a snarl.

"We don't have to be enemies, Drago."

"But we are," Drago answered, "I know what it is to see my village burned, to see my family taken from me, murdered like vermin."

"As do I," Hiccup cut in.

Drago raised his voice a hair, keeping Hiccup from getting any more words in, "But even as a boy, I saw that my family was slain because they weren't strong enough. Because their weapons were not as great as the dragons'. So, I vowed to rise above my fear of dragons, to be stronger than they were, and in doing so, liberate the people of the world."

"By killing them?"

"The people will join me, or they will know what happens when they betray their own kind," Drago snarled, back turned to Hiccup as he examined the hordes of dragons circling Berk.

"So then why a dragon army? Why mess with the order of things? Why do _all _of this?" Hiccup gestured all around them, pinning Drago under an interrogative glare.

Drago snorted, "You need dragons to conquer other dragons."

"Or maybe youneed dragons to conquer _people. _To control those who follow you with the same fear you claim to be rising above," Hiccup countered, "and then get rid of those won't. So that by controlling dragons, you control everyone else, too."

Drago nodded, as if he were impressed. "Clever boy," he glanced up at Chaghatai and the men that had brought them, "Kill the trapper, take the boy to my ship. He'll take us to his dragons, and then he will die, too."

One of the men snatched Hiccup by his bound hands and jerked him to his feet, starting to lead him away. Eret was grabbed by the second soldier, the clean hiss of a knife being unsheathed filling the tense air. Hiccup looked over his shoulder, panicked.

"Wait! Please, don't hurt him! He's suffered enough!" he protested.

No one listened, and the knife was lowered to Eret's throat. Hiccup's heart pounded, threatening to burst out of its cradle in his chest. He shouted something along the lines of _No_ again, but this time he couldn't even hear himself. Eret was going to die.

And then a voice he would never mistake erupted over the hill.

"_STOP!"_

The soldier about to execute Eret hesitated, lifting the knife just far enough away from Eret's neck. Seemingly out of nowhere, an axe spiraled into view, connecting with the soldier's back with a sickening _crunch. _Blood spewed from the fresh wound and the man fell into Eret's back, sliding off of him and going still in the grass. A figure with blonde hair blurred across the hill, snatching her axe from the dying soldier's body and severing Eret's bonds in one fell swoop.

"_What!?"_ Drago roared, stunned.

Another figure, this one far larger, came blistering in the young woman's wake, sword raised high.

Chaghatai Khan had frozen for all of a split second, which was enough for Stoick the Vast. The Chief of Berk engaged the heavily armed general, parrying the man's slow first swing and then jabbing his greatsword forward into a gap in the Khan's suit of armor. The silver blade, darkened with the red hue of drying blood, sank through the armor and into Chaghatai's flesh, spearing out the other end to leave behind a vicious stab wound. The Khan dropped both of his swords and seized, tumbling to the dirt as Stoick ripped his weapon from the general's torso. The final soldier left Hiccup's back to engage, but he was even easier to kill than the Khan, completely outclassed as Stoick feinted left and then speared his sword through the man's chest from the right.

As the last foreigner's body crumpled to the ground in a bloody heap, Astrid waded over with Eret, the latter hobbling and supporting himself by leaning against her.

"Astrid," Hiccup breathed, relieved beyond description. Her face was dotted with specks of crimson blood, but she still managed to look beautiful even though she was currently terrifyingly fearsome. She'd taken a man's life right in front of him and he didn't even care, so long as she was safe.

They shared a brief hug, interrupted by the sound of Stoick sheathing his sword. The enormous Chief of Berk replaced the blade with his great battle axe, raising it up to chest level. Drago recovered from his stupor, suddenly alone in the midst of the bodies of three dying men.

"I'm only going to say this once," Stoick boomed. His stance tightened and he spun the axe in a single, slow circle, closing his free hand around the shaft to do so. "Stay away from _my son."_

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**Part 2 will release in a few weeks. Thanks for reading, all, I know it's been a bit of a slog building up to this point.**


	15. The Wings of War, Part Two

**Hello all. Here's the conclusion to where we left off. It's not as fun for me as Chapter 14, but I have to say I think Chapter 16 will make up significantly for that, as I spent some time yesterday going through it and prepping it to be posted.**

**As of now, I'm (very slowly, writer's block has been a bitch lately) working on this story's epilogue, so... expect updates for the rest of the story to come sooner, I think. We're looking at a total chapter count of 26.**

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_**15\. The Wings of War**_

**Part Two**

"_You._ I watched you _burn."_

The words yanked Hiccup out of his trance, the dull buzzing in his ears wiped out by the crude snarl. Drago was standing across from his father, stunned yet furious. A vein appeared to be attempting to work its way out of Drago's forehead, nearly bursting underneath his ashen, scarred skin.

Stoick the Vast stood tall, twirling his great battle axe in his huge hands.

"It takes more than a little fire to kill me," he retorted, fierce.

"So it seems," the madman rumbled, and with an inhuman twitch he jerked forward, yelling as he charged. Stoick raised his axe in defense, catching the bullhook with a clang of steel and immediately pushing back. Incredibly, he shoved Drago back a step, but the madman redoubled his attack and left Stoick with less than a second to breathe.

Stoick jerked his axe down as he caught the bullhook again, reaching forward with his free hand and smashing his fist against Drago's face. The Dragon God bellowed and staggered backwards, accompanied by a screech of steel as his weapon scraped against his foe's. Hiccup looked on, frozen in his own awe at the clash of titans occurring before his eyes.

Stoick's shout again snapped him out of his reverie, returning feeling to his limbs and reason to his mind.

"You three! Go! Get everyone out of here!" Stoick yelled. Drago planted his feet and swung his bullhook, to which Stoick jerked backwards and slapped his axe against the encroaching weapon.

The color drained from Hiccup's face, and he stubbornly refused. "No! We can still win this," he contended, grabbing his sword from Astrid's hands. He was just about to click the ignition when Stoick's strangled reply nearly shattered his resolve.

"Not today, son," Stoick disagreed, his weapon gridlocked with Drago's. He kept shoving the conqueror back, keeping himself far enough away that he could turn his head and look at Hiccup. "There are too many of them now. His soldiers are searching for the dragons, they'll find them soon." Drago tried to thrash past Stoick's defense, answering with a cruel rasp of his tongue.

"So, they are here—"

Stoick grunted and shoved him back once again. "I'll keep him occupied, but you have to go now, Hiccup. Or everything will be lost."

"He's right," Astrid hissed in Hiccup's ear. He'd forgotten she was even there for a moment, even after claiming his sword from her. "We've lost the battle, let's not lose the war."

Another crash of steel against steel made his skin crawl, though he couldn't help but be impressed by his father's ability to multitask. Even in his old age, the Chief of Berk was wildly impressive, still every inch the revered warrior from the days of the raids.

"What about you?" Hiccup called out, quaking.

"Don't worry about me. I'll see you soon," Stoick promised, looking over his shoulder and offering a weak, unconvincing smile. Drago yelled, raising his bullhook for another swing. Stoick's head snapped around, brow creasing with anger. "Shut up!" he snarled, parrying Drago's attack and striking him with another brutal backhand. Drago staggered back and raised his bullhook to block Stoick's ensuing attack, barely saving himself. The two weapons smashed against one another again and Drago reeled backwards, trying to regain his footing.

Astrid's hand on his shoulder convinced him. He turned to follow, unable to avoid glancing at Chaghatai Khan on the ground. The general was unresponsive, his eyes glossing over as he bled onto the grass, an empty hand failing to cover the open wound in his abdomen. _Good riddance, _Hiccup thought, and immediately felt guilty. He hated death.

He didn't waste another second, breaking into a run after Astrid and Eret. Drago roared behind him, his voice carrying and reaching six soldiers that were busy raiding a nearby house. _"Stop them!" _Drago's call echoed. Hiccup, Astrid, and Eret sprinted past a cluster of soldiers emerging from between two houses, who immediately gave chase.

They continued their sprint, weaving down the path in the relative direction of the woods. A few houses burned as they passed, and the heavy footfalls of the soldiers chasing them made it clear that they wouldn't be able to shake them. Fortunately, as they turned around the corner of a house, two familiar Vikings came into view, in the act of finishing off two more of Drago's men.

"Hoark! Fleetfoot! A hand?" Hiccup asked, whirling around to face the men still giving chase. Astrid and Eret mirrored him, readying their weapons as the platoon of soldiers rounded the bend after them.

Hoark looked up, his hammer cratered into the smashed breastplate of his dead foe. Fleetfoot leveled his polearm in his hands, decorated with spatters of blood that hopefully wasn't his own and standing a whole head shorter than Hoark.

"With pleasure, Hiccup," Hoark replied, twirling his bulky hammer in his hand. Drago's men sprinted at them in a blind charge. The first charged at Eret, who ducked underneath the soldier's sword and promptly yanked it from his grasp, using the weapon against its owner. Astrid and Hiccup moved like mirror images against two more, parrying the men's first strikes and deftly dancing past them to deliver blows to their heads, Hiccup with Inferno's hilt and Astrid with steel.

Fleetfoot moved with a speed perfectly befitting his name, twirling his polearm and disarming the soldier that came for him. The raider gasped as his sword was swiped from his grasp, and with nothing left to protect himself, he merely froze as Fleetfoot carved a clean swathe through his stomach with the axe blade mounted on his polearm, surely killing him.

Lastly, Hoark was a sight to behold, taking on the final two soldiers all on his own. He outclassed the invaders completely, showering them with crushing blows from his hammer. When one of the men sent his sword hurtling for Hoark's shoulder, the Viking batted it away, quickly following by smashing the hammer's heavy side against the man's head, crushing the helmet so badly that the bones in the man's face surely shattered.

The last soldier backed off, visibly afraid. Without so much as a glance to the other Vikings, he turned tail and sprinted back the way he'd come, hoping to save himself from the impossible odds of five versus one.

"Hey!" Astrid yelled, rearing back her axe to throw it. The man's back would make an easy target for her.

But before she could launch her weapon, Hoark beat her to it. The huge Viking sent his hammer flying, not unlike Thor would with Mjölnir, and the heavy weapon smashed into the base of the fleeing soldier's neck, causing him to crumple to the ground in a heap.

"Foreigner scum," Hoark spat, finally relaxing as the sixth man ceased moving. He sauntered over to the body and retrieved the hammer, dangling it at his side.

"Thanks for the save, guys," Hiccup sighed, releasing the catch on his sword so that the blade extinguished and retracted within. Placing his hands on his hips, he dished out orders. "Sound the retreat and make a break for the cove. We're getting out of here."

"Can't say that I'm surprised," Hoark replied, eyeing the nearby burning buildings and the hordes of dragons circling overhead. He looked at Hiccup, "We'll get them next time, lad. We'll make sure of it."

Hiccup nodded, trying to ignore the fact that they'd really lost. "Take care of yourselves," was all he said in response, and the two men nodded.

"Aye, Chief," Fleetfoot said instantly, pausing as he realized his mistake, "Er, Hiccup," he corrected, and then he took off towards the center of the village, keeping true to his namesake. Hoark took off in the other direction without another word, holding his hammer tight in his hand so he'd be ready for anything.

"We should move, tell anyone we can find and then get out of here," Astrid said, impatiently looking back and forth as if waiting for more men to spill from the shadows.

"Yeah, you're right," Hiccup said, releasing a heavy breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. Together, he, Eret, and Astrid trotted closer into the village. The sounds of men fighting filled their ears, the only peep from the army's dragons being the beating of wings overhead and the occasional snarl.

The trio rounded another corner, finding themselves on the road that would take them to the Great Hall. Fighting filled both the dirt road and the steps up to the ancient hall, blood staining both dirt and stone. There were several bodies clad in black bleeding out on the ground, and though they outnumbered the corpses of Berkian Vikings, Hiccup saw why his father had demanded a retreat.

"Everyone, retreat!" Hiccup shouted. Astrid echoed him. Several pairs of eyes looked at them, and the word passed down the road like wildfire. The battle still continued, and Hiccup accidentally laid eyes on a Berkian impaling one of Drago's men on a spear, looking away as soon as he saw the spearpoint protrude through the soldier's back, coated in blood.

A few seconds later, the horn sounded the retreat call, probably thanks to Fleetfoot getting there. With the call formally put out, the scene became a mad dash for the forest, part Vikings fleeing the village and part foreigners giving chase. Hiccup, Eret, and Astrid fell in with the group, pointing people towards the woods as they followed.

"We're going to have to cover our retreat somehow," Astrid fretted, looking over her shoulder at the retreat-in-progress. Most of their people were on their way, and far too many men in black were pursuing them.

Hiccup nodded, nervous. "The cat's about to be out of the bag."

They reached the tree line in the middle of the horde, Vikings barreling into the darkness of the western woods. "Go! Don't let up for anything!" Astrid yelled, signaling for Berk's people to keep up the sprint. She stopped along with Hiccup and Eret, accounting for as many people as they could. Drago's men continued to encroach, a few Berkians getting swarmed and forced to fight against overwhelming odds.

"Time to go, Astrid," Hiccup warned, eyes fixed on the approaching soldiers. She nodded and turned, breaking into a run with him and Eret once again. The forest came alive with the sounds of hundreds of boots pounding on the ground, the retreat in full swing.

And hidden underneath those sounds, they could hear the faint hum of several dragons.

"_Capture them!" _one of Drago's soldiers hollered, raising his sword as he burst through the tree line. The other invaders answered with an uproarious war cry.

Astrid turned around, letting Berkians storm past her as she stared at the approaching soldiers. Hiccup mimicked her, drawing his weapon as if to stand against the wave of raiders. The last of their people disappeared behind them, and Astrid tightened her grip on her axe as the enemy closed in.

"You hear 'em?" Astrid asked.

Hiccup nodded, almost imperceptibly as he glared at the soldiers and lifted his sword in a false defense. "Oh, yeah, I do," he drawled.

The first soldier sprinted at them, grinning madly as bloodlust practically shined in his eyes. He shouted something in a foreign language.

And then in an instant, Hiccup's vision was alight with fire. A vortex of brilliant orange flame filled his entire line of sight, a wave of sweltering heat blasting his skin and forcing him to shut his eyes. Astrid more or less responded the same, hissing at the sensation. Bloodcurdling screams filled the air, the soldiers that had just been charging them now burning alive. Hiccup carefully opened his eyes, the smell of melting flesh invading his nose. The horde of men that had just been swarming the forest was splintered by walls of fire, more and more dragons adding their flames to the fray from the trees.

"Oh, that reeks," he coughed. A loud squawk split the air and a few powerful wingbeats kicked gusts of air down on Hiccup and Astrid. Stormfly landed on the ground, standing protectively above the pair. A second shape, blacker than the darkness in the forest, bounded out of hiding with a happy warble, and a third and final shape descended from the trees, the peculiar set of armor giving away the person's identity.

Valka peered down at them, turned upside down as Cloudjumper dangled from one of the lower branches. Her staff was fixed in one hand, and her other hand was wrapped tightly around one of the protrusions near Cloudjumper's neck.

"Thank all the gods that you're alright," Valka breathed, relieved. More shouting echoed from beyond the forest, a mix of foreign languages belting out in ways that couldn't possibly be friendly.

"That's our cue," Hiccup said, crawling onto Toothless and setting his feet in the dragon's stirrups. Astrid jumped into the saddle on Stormfly's back, reaching down to help Eret up so he could sit behind her. Before any of Drago's men could breach the forest and spot them, the three dragons lifted off into the trees, the rustling of the branches being the only tell that they'd ever been there.

"How is everyone at the cove?" Hiccup asked, keeping his voice down as the three dragons perched on the branches.

"Fine," Valka answered, "With the retreat in full swing, they'll be moving out as soon as possible." She seemed disappointed about the fact. They all were, really. Vikings hated retreating.

"They're going to need all cover fire they can get," Astrid said, looking down as more and more of Drago's men spilled into the forest.

Hiccup nodded. He didn't like Astrid risking herself, but she was right. If they were going to get out, they had to stall the advance of Drago's men. "Go now. Stall them as long as you can. Don't push things." Astrid nodded, and Stormfly flapped deeper into the woods. In seconds, Hiccup heard the dragon squawk, followed by the loud hiss of her fire and the screams of men.

Shaking off his discomfort at the sounds of fiery death, he looked over to his mother, still masked and fully suited in her armor. "I'm going back for Dad," he said, and tugged down his mask as Valka started to protest.

He mushed Toothless to bound through the trees, rushing toward the edge of the forest. Behind him, he could hear Cloudjumper giving chase, branches snapping violently as the bulky dragon dove clumsily between the clustered trees.

Toothless landed on a branch near the border of the forest, just barely still secluded from view. Below, soldiers were sprinting out of the woods, yelling in various languages. He heard one yell a word that sounded like _dragon, _altered by the man's native language_. _Near the cliffs where Hiccup had left him, Stoick was still battling Drago. Hiccup looked through his spyglass, watching his father worriedly. Stoick looked tired, skin glistening with sweat. Drago waved his bullhook in the air, summoning a Monstrous Nightmare to him. Stoick lifted a shield—Hiccup couldn't be sure where he'd picked that up from—as the enthralled dragon launched a volley of fire. He must've swiped it from one of the corpses he'd made. As the dragonfire rained down onto his shield, Hiccup saw Stoick visibly grimace at the strain.

Wind whooshed at Hiccup's back, signaling Cloudjumper's arrival. Shards of wood decorated the Stormcutter's body, remnants of the trees and branches he had destroyed chasing after Toothless. Valka stood atop the dragon's back, and even behind her peculiar mask, he could hear the vexation in her voice.

"Hiccup, we need to go, now."

"I told you, I'm getting Dad," Hiccup hissed, glaring over his shoulder at his mother. He stashed his spyglass away in Toothless' saddlebag and looked back at the cliff. He wriggled in his saddle, shifting the tailfin into the proper position and preparing to go.

Toothless squared his haunches, just about to launch. Valka interrupted, irritation giving way to panic, "Hiccup, no!" she fretted, deftly reaching with her staff to snatch Hiccup's hand away from one of the handlebars, tugging him just slightly back toward her. "I can't risk losing you, too," Valka said, voice reduced to a soft whimper.

She was met with a blazing emerald glare. Hiccup was fuming, appalled at her behavior. "Let. Go. Of. Me," he snarled, and he jerked his wrist out of Valka's grip. He turned his head, and what he saw sent his train of thought careening off the edge.

The Monstrous Nightmare Drago was controlling had whirled around behind Stoick, forcing him to fight two enemies, one on the ground and one in the air. Stoick had raised his shield with his left hand, blocking the barrage of fire trying to melt the wooden buffer, but that had only left him with half of his remaining strength to fight Drago with.

The warlord captured the handle of Stoick's axe in the curve of his bullhook, and with an expert twirl he twisted the weapon out of Stoick's grasp, leaving him defenseless. The dragon hovering above stopped firing as Drago went in for the kill, so Stoick dragged his shield around to protect himself.

The shield connected with the bullhook, deflecting a blow that would've surely killed Stoick. The Chief tried to push Drago's bullhook out of the way, but the warlord held tight.

Then Drago let out a horrible yell. Stoick appeared to do nothing more than flinch, but the shout meant something altogether different to the dragon still hovering over Stoick's back. The red-scaled reptile snarled, the evening sun reflecting off of its shining helmet, and the Stoker Class dragon unleashed a wave of fire from its gullet. Stoick heard the blast ignite and looked over his shoulder, pivoting in an attempt to protect himself.

He wasn't fast enough. The fire connected as he halfway turned around, taking to his clothes like a spark to dry grass. The special fire of the Monstrous Nightmare coated Stoick's legs and parts of his abdomen, painting the Chief's lower body with a brutal blaze. Stoick bellowed, staggering and holding his shield up to deflect the rest of the flames raining down on him.

Hiccup could see Drago's sickening grin even from his hiding place in the trees. He screamed, mortified, but no sound of his own making came to his ears. Instead, the deafening roar of a dragon erupted from the darkness. Nearby, branches shattered with a sickening _snap_ and a large Rumblehorn burst out of the canopy, another agonized roar rocking the village. There was no doubting the dragon's identity as it barreled toward the fallen Chief.

"Skullcrusher—" Hiccup gasped, choked up. "Toothless, go!"

The Night Fury didn't need to be told a second time. Hiccup heard Valka protest again, but they were gone before she could do anything more. Skullcrusher was halfway to Stoick as Toothless emerged from the woods, coiling around to fly the opposite direction in order to build speed. Hiccup looked over his shoulder as Toothless flew, watching as Drago looked up to see the Rumblehorn hurtling toward him, and with a terrible yell he pointed his bullhook at the approaching Tracker Class dragon.

The Nightmare under Drago's control craned its neck and raised its claws, only to be immediately body-slammed by Skullcrusher. Unkeen to divert any more attention to the ground, Hiccup turned back around in his seat, leaning forward and fastening his hands around the handlebars.

"Alright, Toothless, let's do this!" he shouted over the wind, and the Night Fury deftly twisted around in a vertical arc to face the island, not losing an ounce of speed in the process. The black dragon channeled the otherworldly speed that had made his breed so infamous, and the sky began to scream.

A cluster of Drago's men were running up the hill, advancing on Skullcrusher. The Rumblehorn roared at them, having already incapacitated the offending Monstrous Nightmare. The dragon stood protectively over Stoick's unmoving body, smoke rising into the air as small flames continued to flicker along his clothing.

Still, when the heavens erupted with the unmistakable scream of a diving Night Fury, an all-too-familiar panic fell upon the village, Vikings and foreigners alike. It was only natural, a response trained into every living thing from birth.

There was only one target this time, though. Seething, Hiccup tightened his grip on the handlebars, and shouted. "Hit him, Toothless!"

The Night Fury parted its jaws and loosed a bolt of plasma, the small yet enormously destructive purplish ball hurtling straight at Drago. The warlord immediately tried to raise his cloak, unable to easily beat the blast's speed. With the protective curtain of dragonskin only halfway up, Toothless' blast sent Drago spinning, knocking him off his feet and dispatching him. The Dragon God flew and hit the dirt several feet away, and Skullcrusher used the distraction to dive in and maul the men that Drago had sent after him.

Toothless zoomed over the chaos, the island falling away beneath him. Hiccup leaned, guiding Toothless into a wide turn so as to hold onto their staggering speed. "Great shot, bud. Let's go in for another one and kill this bastard, and then we'll get Dad."

Toothless snarled, the image of Stoick's motionless body just as ever-present on his mind as it was Hiccup's. Their time was limited if they wanted to save the Chief. If he was even still alive—Hiccup hoped but couldn't tell—the burns from that Nightmare's blast would likely scar him forever. The Night Fury completed his turn, flapping his wings to gather even more speed in order to race back to the island.

By then, the waters were already rumbling, the ships that made up Drago's fleet shaking as tidal waves seemed to spawn out of nowhere. Hiccup zeroed in on the roiling waters. Drago was on the island, returning to his feet as he waved his bullhook around the area and screamed, over and over and over again. Hiccup was so distracted by what was happening in the port that he completely ignored the chance to shoot at Drago again.

Instinctively, he knew what was coming, but when the beast rose from the waters, he was still struck with the kind of awe that made one quake in their own boots.

"What in the name of Thor…?" he mumbled, watching over his shoulder as they passed over the forests. A monster that was the stuff of legends emerged from the sea, surely hundreds of feet tall and covered in scales the color of thick ash. Its body was detailed with spines and protrusions of various sizes, and most of them were tipped with a red color not unlike that of blood.

"The Alpha," Hiccup whispered. Toothless let out a fearful moan, feeling the enormous dragon's presence even without seeing it. The dragon's image was disarming, the very description of power. It was no wonder that a dragon such as this could command the loyalty of all others. It was larger than Berk itself, taller than everything besides Raven Point, and it was terrifying.

Down below, a third dragon emerged from the trees. Cloudjumper flapped all four of his huge wings, the little armored figure of Valka standing on his back. A tornado of fire erupted from the Stormcutter's mouth, scraping across the Alpha's side and looking almost harmless in doing so.

Hiccup steered Toothless around, exposing the Night Fury to the sight of the Alpha. Toothless tensed up, but there was an understanding between dragon and rider. They didn't have another choice but to go back down there. Steeling themselves, Hiccup and Toothless dove as one. Turning their sights to the Alpha, Toothless fired another plasma blast at the titanic dragon, knocking it back a pace. The effect was considerably more uplifting than Cloudjumper's attempt, but still the Alpha powered through the attack, watching the two insurgent dragons with paralyzing blue eyes.

Toothless lofted up beside Cloudjumper. Valka looked over her shoulder, her expression hidden behind her mask, but any hard feelings that were still lurking between the pair were currently irrelevant. Hiccup glanced toward the woods, seeing a mob of black-clad soldiers rushing towards the tree line. Word had spread—the dragons were in the forest.

Before Hiccup could so much as say anything, the Alpha let out another deafening roar, its breath crystallizing in the air above it as the roar rippled out and continued, cutting like knives. Panicked, Valka looked back ahead, her voice echoing from underneath her helmet.

"Grab ahold of Toothless! Don't let him succumb to the Alpha—it's your only chance!"

Toothless was already growing disoriented by the roar, shaking his head restlessly and grunting as his flight became increasingly erratic. Hiccup placed his hands on either side of Toothless' head, covering the dragon's ears. He looked over his shoulder to see Drago's shape staring straight at him. The sentiment was clear: he wanted Toothless.

"Toothless! I don't really know what's going on right now, bud, but if you can, I need you to focus on my voice!" Hiccup shouted, well and truly panicked, "Whatever that thing is telling you, don't listen! Can you hear me, bud?"

Toothless' flight pattern shifted in and out, from erratic to normal and back to erratic again. The Night Fury warbled, and then growled, the echo of the Alpha's roar reverberating in his skull. Toothless stopped in midair, pivoting to face the Alpha as spasms wracked its body.

"No! Toothless, snap out of it!" Hiccup squeezed the Night Fury's ears, pleading.

Valka interrupted with a shout. "Look out!"

Hiccup looked to the left and saw a large shape hurtling toward him. He let out a yelp and laid flat on Toothless' back, yanking Toothless hard so that the Night Fury spun out of the way on a dime. A dragon went tearing past them, and as Hiccup turned his head to follow the wild beast, he saw the silhouette of a familiar Rumblehorn.

"Skullcrusher! What—"

"He's being controlled by the Alpha," Valka interjected, "We need to leave!"

Toothless warbled, returned to normal as the Alpha's influence left him. That emboldened Hiccup, his stubborn side pushing through and baring its teeth. "No! We can save Skullcrusher and Dad both, we just have to think."

"Cloudjumper, grab them," Valka cut him off, and the Stormcutter abruptly descended upon the Night Fury, reaching out with his claws. Toothless reacted, rolling out of Cloudjumper's grasp.

"What are you doing!?" Hiccup yelled, angered. The village zipped beneath them, flying in circles.

"We don't have time for this!" Valka snapped, "We need to get to the cove!"

The air around them suddenly became a vacuum. Hiccup looked over his shoulder, seeing the Alpha taking in a deep breath. He cursed. They were sitting ducks!

"Here he comes, Toothless, move!"

The Alpha fired a blast at them—only, it wasn't fire, but rather ice. The air instantly froze, expanding into enormous spikes of ice that came hurtling straight at Hiccup and Toothless. The Night Fury corkscrewed in an attempt to avoid the blast, but the ice only kept expanding and tagged Toothless on his tail, spawning a block of ice around the end of it.

It was like flipping a switch, the Night Fury's ability to fly instantly taken from him by immobilizing his prosthetic. Hiccup tried to right the ship, but Toothless was falling too fast.

Toothless obviously took the brunt of the landing, groaning as the crash left him disoriented. Hiccup, in much better shape to act, looked ahead of them. His eyes fell on Stoick's prone body, as well as his very much active green eyes. They'd landed on the hill, and the Alpha's shape towered above them.

"Hiccup…?" Stoick groaned. Hiccup's world spun; he'd never seen his father look so weak, so defeated. The flames that had wrapped around his body were gone, but his lower half had been left smoked, the clothing covering his legs charred. "I told you to run," Stoick wheezed, his voice hoarse like he'd just woken from a long nap.

"I'm not leaving you," Hiccup replied, "I can't."

Stoick shook his head feebly. "You must."

Another shape formed in Hiccup's vision, that of Drago Bludvist. The warlord stomped towards them from behind Stoick, his bullhook clenched in his fist. Stoick seemed to feel the pounding of Drago's footsteps, just before the conqueror reached him and pressed his foot into the Chief's back. Stoick croaked out a cry unlike anything Hiccup had ever heard from him, clearly in pain as Drago's boot dug in.

Drago Bludvist laughed_. "This _is the great dragon master? The son of Stoick the Vast?" Drago said, gesturing at Hiccup and grinning as if he were trying not to laugh. "What _shame_ he must feel." The warlord glanced down at Stoick, hurt and helpless at his feet.

Hiccup pulled his sword from its place on his leg, ignoring Drago's insults. His words were nothing that he hadn't heard before, but rather the latest underestimation. With the click of a button, he activated the blade and ignited it in a flash of fire.

"Let him go, Drago," Hiccup demanded. His eyes flicked back and forth, and he thought he spotted Krogan out of the corner of his eye, standing with more than a dozen soldiers at the ready. He was being surrounded.

Drago shook his head slowly, taunting him. "He belongs to me, now. _Berk _belongs to me," the warlord answered, digging his boot even harder into Stoick's back. The Chief of Berk grimaced again, wanting so hard to fight back but left unable to thanks to his gruesome injuries.

Hiccup wanted to blast him, wanted to shut him up with a special made-to-order blast of Toothless' plasma. But he couldn't, not with his dad so close to Drago and already terribly weak. That had been smart of Drago, to use Stoick as a human shield of sorts now that he was familiar with Toothless' power.

So instead, Hiccup shook his head, fuming. "You won't win."

"I already have," Drago asserted, his eyes trailing down to Toothless' grounded shape.

Desperation seeped into Hiccup's bloodstream like a virus, overwhelming him. He tightened his stance and looked over his shoulder to see Krogan and his men creeping ever closer.

"Please let him go," Hiccup begged, eyeing his father, "He's all I've got."

Drago allowed a slight grin to creep onto his face, the very expression of satisfaction on his features absolutely sickening. "Then I look forward to a world in which you have nothing." Drago's face twisted and he shouted, "Take him!"

There was a shout, and then the wind whistled, and a huge shape plummeted in from the sky, hurtling at Hiccup and Toothless. Cloudjumper swept them up in his grasp, claws fixing around Toothless' body and trapping Hiccup between his dragon's back and the Stormcutter's belly. Hiccup watched the ground pull farther and farther away from him, and he panicked.

"Mom? What are you doing?" Hiccup shouted over the wind.

"Getting you out of there," Valka replied, eyes focused ahead behind her mask.

Hiccup looked over his shoulder, seeing Skullcrusher flapping uselessly after them. She must've managed to shake the Rumblehorn and dive in for the rescue. He looked down, seeing that Drago was glaring up after them. With a yell, the warlord pointed his bullhook at the two fleeing dragons, and the Alpha spat a huge blast of ice. Cloudjumper outran the wall of frozen air, flapping with four wings to gather as much speed as he could. Below, the men that had been with Krogan futilely tried to give chase.

"You could've stopped Drago back there!" Hiccup shouted. "We have to at least go back for Dad!"

"My focus is on saving you," Valka replied sharply.

"But—"

"_We are retreating, Hiccup," _Valka interrupted, coldly this time. She softened almost immediately, sorrowful. "Do not risk your life going back to that village now."

"I can't just—"

"That is _final, _Hiccup!"

A familiar squawk rang in Hiccup's ears. He glanced over and saw Stormfly flapping up to meet them, Astrid sitting squarely on her back. She stared at Hiccup trapped in Cloudjumper's grasp, mouth curled into a frown.

"Where's Stoick?" she called. Hiccup shook his head at her and then turned his head, stubbornly shutting out the rest of the world. "Hiccup?" she tried, but he didn't respond. She didn't ask again, so he considered it a temporary win.

The cove appeared seconds later. Cloudjumper and Stormfly descended with haste, knowing that their time was short. There was no telling where the men that had infiltrated the forest were now, and Drago would likely send his dragons after them to try and prevent their retreat. On the ground within the cove, a few hundred people and twice as many dragons dwelled, nervous and fidgeting.

Everyone looked up as Cloudjumper flapped to the ground, releasing his hold on Toothless before drifting completely to the ground a few feet away. Hiccup laid flat atop Toothless' back and Stormfly settled into a landing next to them. Astrid cupped her hands over her mouth and called, urgent.

"Wings up, everyone! Move, move!"

Valka and Cloudjumper took off again, avoiding any further confrontation with Hiccup or potentially Astrid. The rest of the Berkians started to flock into the sky, following her.

"What happened to Toothless?" Astrid asked, eyes fixed on the ice block weighing down his tail.

Hiccup slid off the saddle and drew his sword, pushing the rampant thoughts about his father out of his mind for the moment. "The Alpha apparently breathes ice, not fire," he muttered. He pressed Inferno's burning blade into the block of ice. The superheated metal sank through and with a simple tug he was able to cleave the block in two. With the ice broken, he held Inferno slightly above the material, hoping to dry any residual water with the power of sheer heat.

"Well, it's a good thing that he's okay," Astrid said. Hiccup nodded in agreement. From across the cove, three dragons came stumbling out of the retreating crowd, Fishlegs, Snotlout, and the twins mounted on their backs.

It was Fishlegs who noticed the absence.

"Um, Hiccup? Where's your dad?"

Hiccup's head pounded, all manner of emotions roiling through his mind. Just as easily as he'd expelled those thoughts, they came rushing back to the forefront of his mind. He saw red, and then he felt tears coming on, and then he saw red again. His expression hardened to steel.

"He's still in the village," he whispered. Hiccup tilted his head to the sky so he could watch Cloudjumper's retreating form, leading the rest of the Berkians in the retreat, "And it's her fault," he concluded, very vaguely.

"Her?" Snotlout blurted out, stumped.

A cacophonous roar echoed over the horizon, erupting over the trees and sinking into the bowl of the cove so that the noise echoed even more. Close behind it, shouting, all mixed up in a mess of various languages, spilled over the cove walls.

Astrid's head snapped up. "We've got company! Go, go!" the others scrambled to obey, mushing their dragons into the air. A few men broke through the trees, spotting Toothless and Stormfly in the cove below. They shouted behind them and drew crossbows, aiming just as the two dragons took off. Bolts whizzed behind them, embedding themselves in the dirt, and both dragons rapidly ascended, easily escaping the crossbow bolts and disappearing over the trees. A few enthralled dragons gave chase, but Toothless and Stormfly easily outflew them.

When they finally slowed and leveled off from their ascent, they were fairly behind the pack that was the rest of Berk—those who had been fortunate enough to escape, anyway.

"Hiccup? What all happened back there?" Astrid asked, her gaze unrelenting.

He didn't answer for several seconds, managing to make the pause feel like hours. His attention was squarely fixed on Berk, the island rapidly shrinking behind them. Trails of smoke lifted into the sky, primarily from the parts of the forest that had been set fire to in order to ward off Drago's men. In the harbor, the Alpha's shape towered above all, circles upon circles of dragons returning to the island and orbiting it as if it were a god. It _was _a god, in a way. The dragons it controlled were slaves to its whims. He'd been lucky that Skullcrusher had attacked them—it might well have saved Toothless from the same fate.

And left behind, suffering through Odin knows what, was Stoick the Vast.

"We'll talk about it later," Hiccup replied, thankful for his mask. It helped him feel closed off from the world. He didn't have to feel the wind against his face, its cold pinch reminding him that all of this was real.

He clicked his tongue, and Toothless flapped away from Astrid, searching for open air to save them from their new, suffocating reality: the possibility of a world without Stoick Haddock.

* * *

Stoick's eyes blinked open, raw from fitful sleep. Warm air fluttered in through the small open window, the sky outside still pitch black. From a quick look at his surroundings, Stoick could tell that he was in one of the cells in Berk's jailhouse beneath the Great Hall. The room was dark except for the light of a torch on the wall, and enormous chains shackled the Chief to the wall, keeping him from going much of anywhere. He'd thankfully been given a mattress, but it was enormously uncomfortable. A brief glance across his body let Stoick see the copious bandages strewn across his lower half and midsection. They looked clean; they must've been changed recently. He could still feel the pain of the burns eating away at the flesh of his legs, the remaining skin raw and scarred.

"Good morning, Chief," a voice greeted, haughty and not at all welcoming. Stoick thrashed against his bonds, looking up and seeing a figure just barely revealed by the torchlight. A slim, olive-skinned man was standing inside his cell, leaning his back against the bars and smirking.

"You're lucky a few of the prisoners we took were healers. They had a difficult time saving you. For all of your people's barbarism, I must commend your commitment to medicine. Though perhaps they only worked so hard because of who you are to them," the olive-skinned man drawled. "Or maybe you were right, and it takes more than a little fire to kill you after all. Perhaps you are simply that strong-willed. In the end, I suppose it makes no difference."

"Healers? You took prisoners?" Stoick asked, weary.

"Of course. We don't simply kill everyone we find. That would be foolish," the stranger retorted.

If Stoick could shrug without descending into visceral pain, he would've. "What Drago did to those chieftains years ago seemed to imply that he was in the business of indiscriminate murder."

"You presume wrong," the stranger replied. "We give those we see fit the chance to join our ranks. With any luck, they'll commit to our side within the week. If not… then we'll explore other options."

Stoick bristled at the implication, but he forced himself to remain calm. He could already tell that this man, whoever he was, liked to talk. He'd dealt with many like him before. It might serve him well to _keep _him talking.

"Is that why I'm alive, then? To offer me the chance to convert?"

The stranger shook his head, pursing his lips. Without warning, he approached Stoick, keeping a respectable distance. The torchlight fell behind him now but managed to reveal a little bit more of his features. His hair was black and closely shaved, his beard full and trimmed in a similar manner. His head was narrower than Stoick had initially presumed. He wore a reddish vest and brown breeches, and he sported a belt buckle bearing the symbol of Drago's army; a Monstrous Nightmare head divided by a sword.

"No, I'm afraid not. Your case is a special one. Drago has seen fit to keep you alive for different reasons."

It took Stoick a moment to figure it out. He fished through his hazy memories of the day, recalling most strongly the searing pain of receiving the burns that now marred his legs. He remembered Drago's boot pressing into his back, and the image of Hiccup and Toothless in front of him.

"My son escaped," Stoick recalled.

The stranger nodded. "You're cleverer than I'd thought."

"It's a learned skill," Stoick bit. The visitor snorted briefly.

"You impress me, Stoick the Vast. You're a seasoned warrior whose skills have not withered with age. A force to be reckoned with, indeed. And you are wiser than you seem, highly respected by your people. They look to you for guidance and can count on you to provide for them."

"High praise for me, and yet I don't even know your name," Stoick heaved with a hint of the Hiccup-esque sarcasm that once upon a time might've driven him mad. His throat, he realized, was incredibly dry. He needed water.

"You may call me Krogan," said the stranger, "The thing that stands out to me the most about you, though, is that you used to be a zealous dragon killer. Your efforts to find the nest of the dragons that plagued these islands were well-publicized."

"I ended up changing my mind about them," he said simply.

"And look where that's gotten you," Krogan sneered, gesturing to his injured legs. "A debilitating injury, the fall of your people, and a pathetic son for an heir."

Stoick's eyes narrowed. "My son is not pathetic."

Krogan smiled sardonically, "Is that so? This is the same son that dropped himself into Drago's hands, foolishly seeking to sue for peace, yes? I believe he called himself _Hiccup. _I remember exactly what he looked like then: a frightened, stupid little boy so breathtakingly far out of his depth."

Stoick stewed as Krogan lambasted his son. Smart, bold, wonderful Hiccup, who'd ended a war and been bright enough to make Stoick's stubborn old self see sense, who'd risen to become the pride of all Berk. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"On the contrary. I know all that I need to know. If only we'd known exactly what we had when he landed himself in our dungeons. We would've executed him instantly. Then your little resistance would be over by now, dead with your capture rather than clinging to life with your son's survival. Drago does not dole out much mercy to those who oppose him. I'd advise you to consider his generosity, for there is an expiration date to it," Krogan countered.

"There's a special place in Hel for you and Drago," Stoick growled. "I know my people are not the first to fall victim to your master. But they will be the last. You'll see. Hiccup will return, and he'll crush you."

Krogan slow clapped, adding to it with a derisive, bone-rattling chuckle. "And that, Chief, is exactly why you continue to draw breath! Congratulations to you." The man narrowed his eyes, "I want you to know how this is going to play out. Hiccup will return, that is for certain. It is not so easy to leave your people to the wolves and not try to avenge them, much less one's own beloved father. Drago has slain many who fancied themselves as heroes coming to free their people from bondage. And when Hiccup returns, he will add his name to that list."

Krogan leaned over Stoick, drawing closer. Too close. He could smell the man's breath, and his teeth were an irritatingly perfect white. "Once that is done, and the remaining dragons from Berk are integrated into our army, we will burn this forsaken rock until it crumbles back into the sea where it belongs. Only then, once your people are slaughtered and your dragons are enslaved, and Drago has wiped your miserable village from the face of the world, when all that you have built is gone, only then will he allow you to die. Only then will Drago deign to put an end to your pitiful existence."

Stoick replied with a defiant headbutt, crashing his skull against Krogan's. The slim man yelled, staggering back and clutching his forehead as his skin lit up in a flash of pain. His boots even stomped on the stone floor as he reeled backwards, his entire haughty little act shattered. The sight brought a smile to the Chief's face, even though the action was somewhat painful for himself. The chains, regrettably, kept him from advancing.

Krogan recovered quickly, regaining his composure and looking back up to give Stoick an absolutely _loathsome_ glare. "Fool. Even in your total defeat, you refuse to see sense. We know you know where he's going, where they're hiding. Give them up, and Drago will let you live. He may even spare your village."

Ah, so that was the game. Threaten him with the annihilation of all he held dear, and he just might give in. This was Drago Bludvist trying to make up for gaining little in the grand scheme of things by conquering Berk. Pathetic. If they thought he would sell out his own son and the vast majority of their people that he'd gotten off the island with, it was they who were the fools.

So, Stoick remained completely and totally silent. Krogan would leave this cell just as empty-handed as he'd been when he'd entered. He even pointed his eyes to the ceiling, devoting only the attention of his peripheral vision to the man.

Krogan sneered at being ignored. "You insolent Viking. You're a fool, you and all your kind, living in the muck of these disgusting islands like animals, oblivious to the true ways of the world. I offer you your only chance at survival, and you turn your nose up at me. You'll see. You'll all see."

Krogan turned his back and banged on the cell door, his fist rattling the metal. "Let me out of here. I'm done with this dragon-loving filth!" Footsteps echoed down the hall, most likely those of one of Drago's men that had been assigned to guard the jail. How many others were locked in here, Stoick wondered? Was he the sole guest of honor? Had the healers that had saved his life been thrown in some of the other cells?

The cell door opened, and Krogan moved to step out, only to pause as something seemed to occur to him. The slim man craned his neck, the torchlight from the wall accenting his olive skin.

"You know something, Chief? You remind me of that girl, the one who was with your boy when he came to us. She was feisty, but _quite_ the beauty. Wouldn't back down from anything. The boy came from you, but I must say I'm shocked that the girl didn't as well. The two of you are so very alike." Stoick's breath hitched in his throat. He was talking about _Astrid_.

"Although perhaps she did. I suppose it wouldn't be a great shock to find that you animals practice inbreeding, too. Either way, I was interested the second I met her. I couldn't help but wonder, if I held her down, would she scream? Or would she bear the agony, the humiliation, the _defilement_ with stubborn silence?" Krogan drawled. He turned his lips up in a wicked, sleazy smile. "I can hardly wait to find out, once she returns."

A low growl formed in Stoick's throat, his chest tightening with appalled rage. The absolute _nerve. _"Don't you speak of my daughter-in-law that way. I'll have your head," he snarled, yanking once against his shackles as if to further communicate the threat.

Krogan scoffed, sufficiently pleased that he'd finally struck a nerve. "No, Chief. I don't think you will," he replied, and with that he stepped out of the cell. The metal door slammed shut behind him, the lock sliding into place with a haunting _click,_ and then both Krogan and the guard disappeared down the dark tunnel.

Stoick didn't relax—or rather, do anything resembling relaxing—until the sounds of their footsteps were long gone. The quiet jailhouse seemed to whisper to him, repeating Krogan's words on a never-ending loop. His threats of annihilation on Drago's behalf, his castigations of Hiccup as if he actually knew any small thing about his son, and most infuriatingly his slimy fantasies of tarnishing Astrid, of ruining her beyond repair.

This would not stand, Stoick decided. He would fight them, he would fight every last one of them until he killed them all in most brutal way possible, until he could bathe himself in their blood. He'd see Drago's corpse at his feet, right next to Krogan's and all the rest, freeing Midgard from the scourge of Drago Bludvist and his dragon army.

But as he tried to pivot himself into a slightly more comfortable position, he was reminded of his injuries. The burns on his legs from the dragons that had attacked him were damages that would potentially see him struggle to do so much as walk for the remainder of his life. He knew that he couldn't do what he so badly wanted, not in this condition, not likely ever again. Stoick hissed at the pain, the raw stinging of the ruined flesh that he couldn't even see.

So that meant everything fell to Hiccup. His little Hiccup, who probably thought that Stoick was dead right now. He had every reason to, really. Stoick himself had thought he was dead for a while there.

_Gods, give my boy strength, _Stoick prayed. He would need it.

Stoick the Vast left his eyes closed, preferring to surrender to sleep rather than lie awake in this dark hell any longer.

* * *

**So, who thinks that Hiccup's next conversation with Valka is going to go swimmingly? Now put your hands down, you liars.**

**Next update: Berk recovers from their defeat, bridges get burned, and secrets finally come to light...**


	16. The Ties That Break

**Welcome back all. This time on _Ghosts: _Berk tries to recover after being driven out, Hiccup cracks under the pressure, and a secret comes to light.**

**Please consider posting a review at the end because I really liked writing this chapter and I'd like to get a feel for how everyone likes this story. I admittedly have mixed feelings about it.**

* * *

_**16\. The Ties That Break**_

It wasn't long before the Steppingstones appeared in the distance. Generally, the uninhabited cluster of islands were ignored by all of Viking-kind—they were too small and didn't have enough resources to support a civilization for more than a few days—but now, they served as a beacon of hope. One by one, a horde of dragons descended upon the largest island, which was barely more than a forested sandbar. Fortunately, with the majority of the dragons perching in the trees, the island would suffice just enough for the Vikings of Berk to rest and recuperate.

In the center of the descent was a massive Stormcutter and its rider, the mysterious woman in mysterious armor. She'd been waiting in the cove for the women and children and dragons before the battle began and gave them quite the scare in the process. But just as she had predicted, once the dragons showed they trusted her, the rest of the Berkians reluctantly accepted her, believing her when she said she was there to protect them despite their having no idea who exactly was behind the mask.

Well, except for Edna Hofferson, of course, but she hadn't yet shared her realization with anyone else. It was neither the time nor the place for that.

Now that Berk had fallen, though, no one really knew what it was the time or the place for. Retreating to the Steppingstones had been the contingency, not the expectation, even when Drago's enormous army showed itself. No one knew where to go from here.

Valka, still hiding behind her armor, called out to the Berkians. "Rest and recover, everyone. This island won't be safe for long."

Though some people promptly collapsed to the ground to catch their breath, far more began to murmur and turn their nose up at the stranger with intense scrutiny. Who was this person to be giving orders? _Who _was giving orders? Where was Stoick? Was the rumor that had been circulating during the retreat true, that he'd been struck down in the battle?

"You owe us an explanation, stranger," Spitelout spoke up, crossing his muscular arms. Streaks of dried blood decorated his arms and his face, some of it his own and most of it not. "Who are you?"

The masked rider answered with just enough hesitation to prompt suspicion. "I am a friend," she said matter-of-factly. All around her, more and more Berkians looked her way with suspicious pairs of eyes.

"Don't have any friends that hide behind a suit of armor quite like yours. Or a mask," Spitelout countered. "Anyone who wears a mask has something to hide, and if there's one thing we Berkians don't like, it's having secrets kept from us."

A chorus of resounding _Aye's_ followed Spitelout's declaration, adding to the distrustful stares being thrown at Valka. She looked around, and Cloudjumper began to bristle.

"Please, there's no need for conflict. We must recuperate and decide our next move," she tried.

"Our next move? We don't even know who you are," Spitelout bit, "How do we know you're not an agent of Drago's, come to lead us astray? Is your suit full of dragon nip? Is that why the dragons like you?"

"Dragon nip? What even—" Valka started, but she was interrupted.

"Yeah! How _do _we know anything you say is true?" a Viking with a thick blonde beard shouted. The Berkians started to creep closer to Valka, closing her and Cloudjumper in at the center of their circle. Cloudjumper offered a warning growl, but the shouts kept coming.

"I ask again: who are you, and how did you come to arrive on Berk?" Spitelout demanded.

Valka held up her empty hands, unwilling to draw her weapon against her former people. "Please, friends! We are on the same side!"

There was a roar and a rush of wind from above, and a black shape dropped onto the sand. Everyone recognized the figure on the Night Fury's back, but as they all took note of his posture, no one dared let out a cheer. He was sitting straight up, green eyes blazing through the eye slots of his helmet. As one, the island fell into total silence.

Hiccup's focus was not on his people. Instead, his emerald eyes were locked onto Valka, the fire inside them on the verge of burning him to cinders. He disconnected his prosthetic leg from the rigging and swung off of Toothless' back, eyes never leaving his masked mother.

"Everyone back away from her," Hiccup said, slowly, but with a taste of venom on his tongue.

"Hiccup—" Valka started, trailing off and drawing a few confused glances. As more people began to whisper under their breath, Hiccup advanced, one hand falling away from Toothless' side and toward his own.

"Take off that mask," Hiccup growled, "I want everyone to see who you are."

He could practically see Valka's eyebrows rise even underneath her mask, her slim body going rigid as she processed with shock what Hiccup was asking.

Gobber hobbled up beside Hiccup, raising a heavy hand to his former apprentice's shoulder. "Hiccup, what are ye going on about?"

Valka shook her masked head, resistant. "I can't—"

Again, Hiccup interrupted her. "My father is gone. Most likely dead. Which means that the chiefdom now falls to me. And since I am now your Chief, albeit against my will, I command you to remove your mask. You don't need it."

That sent the rest of Berk into a frenzy of hushed hissing and shocked whispers, everyone trying to process what Hiccup was saying. The juiciest detail: was the person behind the mask actually from Berk? The new Chief and the stranger continued to stare one another down, standing in total silence. There was so much that Valka wanted to say, to protest against what her son was asking of her. Removing her mask and revealing her identity would only spawn more questions and might even sow more distrust when the people realized that Hiccup had known all along.

But looking upon her son, so consumed by his grief-stricken rage, she could see that there was no convincing him otherwise. So, slowly, she raised her uncovered hands up to her helmet, feeling its smooth surface before carefully detaching it from the catch around her neck.

Her hands went up, and the mask followed, unsheathing her features before all of Berk. As one, the village let out a great gasp, recognizing the stranger beneath the armor as a living ghost. Her face was just starting to show the signs of wrinkles, and her auburn hair was beginning to suffer streaks of grey, but there was no denying the mysterious dragon rider's identity.

It was Gobber who broke the silence, his voice a strangled gasp. "Val?" he drawled, standing paralyzed behind Hiccup. Valka nodded sadly, averting her eyes after the fact to the ground. She chanced a quick glance at her son, and when she saw that he was still blazing with anger, she looked down once more.

"Hiccup, you knew?" Spitelout asked, standing on the other side of Valka. His arms had fallen to his sides in shock, stunned by the revelation of the masked rider's true identity.

"I did," Hiccup admitted. He raised his voice, explaining the truth to everyone around him. "When Astrid and I escaped Drago's prisons, we didn't manage it on our own. The fleet was on the move, and my mother, who as you can all see is very much alive, attacked the fleet in order to free as many imprisoned dragons as she could. We used the distraction to escape, only to be intercepted by her on our way back to Berk. _My mother, _who allowed all of us, even her husband and her own son, to believe that she had been dead for nearly twenty years!"

People murmured back and forth amongst one another, and Hiccup kept on, fixing his glare at Valka's guilty shape. "After the most awkward reunion ever, she told us about Drago's forces and what he was coming at us with, which is how we ended up deciding to hide the dragons before the battle. Drago's Alpha would've taken control of all of our dragons and turned them against us, so we had to take them out of the fight. Maybe if we had had the second opinion of the only person to survive a long war with Drago, we could've been better prepared."

At this, Valka responded. "You asked me to do something that I could not do. I had to hide myself from the village. I would've never been able to keep my identity a secret!"

"Why would you need to!?" Hiccup shot back, "We've changed, Mom. _Everyone_ on Berk has changed. So why, _why _did you refuse to help us? Why did you insist on staying in the cove?"

"That was our plan!"

"It was _your _plan!" Hiccup rebutted, "My plan was to work together with you to fight back against Drago, but you wouldn't do that! You were more concerned about the dragons!"

"Drago wants to enslave them!" Valka contested, her knuckles turning white around the shaft of her staff as she and her son entered a full-on shouting match.

"And he wants to _kill _us! Allyou had to do was come to the village and _help us! _We could've worked to find a better solution, _together! _But you were too afraid to just show yourself, too concerned about your secrets!"

Gobber stepped in, trying to grab Hiccup. "Hiccup, now, let's try an' calm down. We've just lost our home—"

But Hiccup swatted the blacksmith's hand away, fuming as he turned on his mentor. "I know that, Gobber! And it's _her _fault!"

Valka scoffed, indignant, "It is not solely my fault that Drago won today. I have done what is best for both Berk and for the dragons."

Hiccup whirled on her again, "And for yourself, since you seem to be conveniently ignoring that!"

"That is _preposterous—"_

"You left!" Hiccup exploded in a fiery, violent burst of rage. "And when I needed you the most, you hid!"

They both fell silent, Hiccup's chest rising and falling as he sucked in hot, seething breaths of air. He seemed to burn off some of the steam spurring his rage, and when he spoke again to break the silence, his voice was softer, partially embarrassed by his display of anger.

"You didn't want anyone else, not even your _husband_ to know that you were alive, because you're afraid_. _You're afraid of having to give up this magnificent free life that you've been living in secret for twenty years because your _family_ wants you back."

He chuckled self-deprecatingly, adding before Valka could try to answer, "Gods, do you have any idea what you did to me and Dad? I saw that man cry _once_ in his life, and it was because he was mourning you. He loved you so much that he refused to ever take another wife, because he believed his soul was forever bound to yours and that by marrying again, he would be stepping on your memory. Little did he know, you weren't even _dead."_

That got to Valka, chipping her hard, stubborn exterior. Her blue eyes grew watery, not having thought of things like that. "Then please tell me what I could've done instead," she begged him, pleading.

"You could've come back to Berk at any point in the last five years and told us about Drago. We could've taken the fight to him, instead of the other way around."

"What sign did I have that you people could change?" Valka deflected. Her response was like a spark, and it set off another burst of the flame that was Hiccup's grief, manifesting itself as another bout of anger.

"_You_ _people_? Even now, are you seriously still separating yourself from us? From the people you were born with?" Hiccup scoffed and turned his back, stepping part of the ways back in Toothless' direction. He glanced up and saw Astrid standing by Stormfly, keeping a safe distance from him. In a way, he was grateful that she hadn't intervened, but also, he was suddenly really worried about what was going through her head, watching him shout and scream at his mother in front of the entire village.

He forced himself to calm down, cooling his blood and running a hand through his thick hair before he spoke.

"Leave."

Valka flinched. "What?"

Gobber echoed her, blurting, "What?"

"You heard me," Hiccup replied, addressing Valka and turning around to face her. "Leave. You say that you never came back because you felt we could never change. And yet when I showed you that we could, that we _did, _you still hid yourself away. I'm starting to think that you never wanted to be a part of Berk in the first place—that you loved your dragons more than us. More than _me."_

Valka started to panic. "Hiccup, that's not true, I—"

But he wasn't having it. He held up a tired hand, silencing her. "Stop. I don't want to hear it. I thought my mother was gone for twenty years. And now, my father actually is," Hiccup interrupted. "I got on without you for all this time. I can get on without you now, too."

"Hic—"

"_Just go, _Mom. Get back on that dragon that you loved more than me and _go."_

It was no exaggeration to say that the entire village—what was left of it, anyway—was stunned into silence. Even Spitelout, usually so boisterous and haughty, held his arms slack at his sides in disbelief. Valka held Hiccup's stare; her face frozen into a mask of shock. Cloudjumper loomed over her, expressionless, and the only sound—despite there being at least a hundred people and twice as many dragons crammed on the island—was the whisper of the trees as the sea breeze blew them back and forth.

"If this is what will truly make you happy…" Valka started, breathless, "then far be it from me to refuse you."

Hiccup continued to stand tall and stern, glaring endlessly at his mother. Slowly, Valka turned around and climbed onto Cloudjumper's back. The Stormcutter purred at her touch, as if he were an enormous housecat, and Valka pulled her mask down to hide her face.

Without giving Hiccup or the people of Berk a second look, Valka tapped her dragon's side to command him to fly. Cloudjumper unfurled his four great wings, lurching off of the ground and nearly shaking the island with the strength of his wingbeats. Hiccup watched them go, as did everyone else, until he finally deflated, turning his back to his people and walking over to Toothless.

Berk's people started to busy themselves, keeping their gossip to the lowest volume that they could manage. What they'd just witnessed was, effectively, the story of the year. Hiccup stroked Toothless' chin, the Night Fury letting out a saddened warble in an attempt to comfort his friend.

It was Astrid who finally approached him, appearing in his peripheral vision and waiting. Hiccup breathed in as if preparing himself and looked to his right, taking in her striking image with his bleary eyes. The specks of blood that had dotted her face when she'd come to his rescue on Berk had mostly faded, but her hair was windblown, and she looked almost as tired as he was.

Before she could say anything, he spoke up. "Have everyone patch up, get some rest, and then we're headed for the Bog Burglar Islands. We need help to beat Drago, and I want to get as far away as possible so he can't find us."

"You're leaving?" Astrid asked, frowning.

"I just… need to be alone," Hiccup said, pointing his eyes on the ground. "I'll be close by. Can I count on you?"

Astrid bit back a scoff. The answer was obvious. But Hiccup was hurting badly right now, his heart and his mind carved up by shock and twenty years of unknown pain at last bubbling up to the surface to scald him, and she could see it on his face. So, she merely said, "Of course."

Hiccup breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank you."

He swung back into the saddle, had Toothless take off, and didn't look back.

* * *

Astrid patrolled the small island, checking in on each and every one of her people. There were a lot of faces that were unfortunately missing from the crowd, either dead or (hopefully) imprisoned back on Berk. There was no counting exactly how many people they'd lost. The dragons were in almost peak condition, having been unharmed thanks to their hiding.

Stoick's Rumblehorn, Skullcrusher, was the one dragon that she couldn't find. They had rushed out of Berk before they could stage a head count, but she guessed that Skullcrusher had gone to Stoick's defense and ultimately either been killed or controlled by the Alpha. She really hoped that it was the latter, so that the bulky dragon would still be alive. He was a good dragon, one of the best.

After she had made her rounds, she spotted her mother and father tending to a small fire. Ingvar Hofferson had a long but shallow wound trailing down his arm, so Edna was carefully cleaning it. A roll of bandages rested at her side, ready for use.

Eager to check in on them, Astrid powered over to her parents. Edna noticed her approach out of the corner of her eye and looked up, prompting Ingvar to likewise look and see who was coming. Her father's face lit up with a smile, perhaps a little too cheery considering the circumstances.

"Astrid, dear! Are you alright?"

"I should be asking you that question," Astrid replied, gesturing to the lengthy cut on her father's arm.

Ingvar brushed it off. "It's nothing. I've come home to your mother with far worse injuries."

"It's true," Edna chimed in, taking one last look at the wound and deciding that it was sufficiently clean. She grabbed the small roll of bandages and started to pull some of the cloth away.

"But no matter what, I'm eternally grateful to have your mother there to patch me up. I can't express how lucky I am," Ingvar said. Edna glanced halfway up at her husband and smiled wryly. The exchange made Astrid smile too. After so many years, her parents were still very much in love. It was inspiring. She could only hope that she and Hiccup would be the same way after twenty years of being stuck with each other. Not that she doubted him, of course.

Edna cleared her throat. "Astrid, love, can you stay and talk for a moment?"

Astrid frowned, but nodded. "Sure. What is it?"

"I understand that you knew about Valka as well?" Edna asked, steadily wrapping the first few inches of bandages around Ingvar's arm.

Astrid reached over and scratched her left arm, feeling guilty. "Um, yes. Like Hiccup said, we met after we escaped from Drago."

"She attacked Drago's fleet in the night," Edna recalled, "The two of you left that part out of your story."

"Valka asked us not to tell the full truth."

"I wish I knew why. It was fairly easy to figure out who was behind the mask, after all," Edna said. That caught Astrid's attention, but before she could ask, Edna explained herself, "She was waiting in the cove, all covered in that armor of hers. I couldn't help but feel something familiar about her. I don't know if any of the other women noticed anything, too, but Valka was always a firecracker and wasn't the most popular woman in town because of it, so I'm sure if anyone had the same feelings I did, they brushed them off."

"How did you figure it out?"

Edna pursed her lips, pausing in the middle of her work patching up her husband. "The Stormcutter was the first hint."

"Cloudjumper," Astrid clarified.

"I hadn't seen one in a long, long time. So, I was instantly reminded when I saw the dragon accompanying her. After that, it really all happened so fast. I wondered how this stranger had gotten here and knew where she was, and when she showed how tender she was with our dragons… I did have an idea…"

Astrid stole a glance at her father. He seemed equally as enthralled by the story as Astrid was.

"Some part of me kept saying it wasn't possible. But then I thought about how slim the person behind the armor must've been to fit in something like that, and she was so careful with the dragons and I thought, what if that Stormcutter was the same one? Stoick said the night she was taken that Valka had been frozen, and the dragon wasn't yet moving to attack her. I wonder if it was ever going to in the first place, had Stoick not intervened."

"And then it all came together," Ingvar suggested. Edna nodded.

"I had to at least guess. I figured if I was wrong, I wouldn't be seeing this stranger again. So, I walked toward her, away from the others, and I called her by her name. When she froze up, I knew that I had been right."

The Hofferson family stayed silent for several moments, the only sound being the scratch of cloth as Edna finished bandaging her husband's arm. Ingvar carefully pulled his arm away from her, moving it about slowly to make sure his mobility wasn't too hindered by the patch job.

"She never came back," Ingvar spoke up, eyes shifting from his bandages to his wife and daughter. "She left her husband and her baby boy."

"I can't claim to agree with Valka's actions, but I knew her well enough to guess that she'll regret what she did for her entire life. Maybe she thought that she was doing right by Hiccup by staying away," Edna suggested, "She was a complicated woman."

"Still, don't you think Hiccup has every right to be as furious with her as he was back there?" Ingvar asked.

"I'm not denying that. I just don't think we should make judgments on her before we understand the full story. I'm not convinced that _Hiccup_ even knows the full story," Edna explained. Ingvar sighed, but after a moment of thought he nodded, accepting.

"Thank you for patching me up, Edna," he said, offering her a smile. Edna returned the smile and nodded, leaning forward to kiss her husband on the cheek. Astrid averted her eyes, making up some scandal in her head. The moment felt private, even for a simple kiss on the cheek. She kissed Hiccup on the cheek in public all the time. Why was this bothering her?

Everything was different now, she realized. In the blink of an eye, the people of Berk had no home. No one, not even she, knew what they were going to do next. Hiccup had said before he'd left that he wanted to go to Bog. She would like to get to see Camicazi again, although she wished it could be under better circumstances.

But after that, things were still a blur. Logic favored the idea that they would try to take Berk back from Drago, but there were so many things that would factor into that, most notably the Alpha. They would need more than the Bog Burglars to beat that army, that was for sure.

Astrid's stomach swelled, growling at her. She glanced down and thought about the baby growing inside her and the strain that it was probably putting on her. How could something so small be so taxing? She wasn't even far enough along yet for the pregnancy to show.

_Ugh. _Right now, she needed a meal and some rest more than anything, but there was no time to take care of either of those things. There were probably some rations in Stormfly's saddlebag that might tide her over until they got to Bog, but they wouldn't be anything close to the kind of the meal that she was definitely craving. She'd just have to make do.

"I'm going to go find something to eat and get people together to feed the dragons while I'm at it," Astrid said. Her parents looked up at her now.

Ingvar smiled. "That's my girl. You're becoming more of a Chieftess every time I see you. We'll come help out in a moment."

"Okay."

Astrid hugged her parents, told them she loved them, and then turned on her heel to look for Stormfly. She had to weave past several dragons and call the Nadder's name a few times, but eventually she spotted her beloved battle sister hitting it off with a group of other Nadders from Berk.

"Stormfly!" she called again, and this time the Nadder heard her. Stormfly craned her neck in her rider's direction, bid a happy farewell to the other Nadders, and then ambled over to Astrid, squawking happily.

"Hi, girl," Astrid cooed as Stormfly stooped down and demanded scratches. Astrid obliged, hitting a sweet spot that caused Stormfly to lift one of her large legs a few inches off the sand. After a few seconds of that, Astrid made a grab for the saddlebag, rifling through it. Stormfly squawked with a hint of concern.

"It's okay, girl, I'm just—" Astrid closed her fingers around a well-packaged bit of bread. She ripped off the wrapping and shoved the morsel into her mouth, particularly unladylike. She didn't care. As she swallowed the bread, she managed a small, relieved exhale. "Hungry," she muttered. Stormfly trilled softly at her, watching her through one of her golden eyes.

"Is all of this normal, Stormfly? I guess you wouldn't know because you guys lay your eggs and that's pretty much the extent of your kids being inside your body," Astrid said, making sure to keep her voice down. The rest of the tribe did _not _need to find out like this, and certainly not before her child's _father_ found out.

She still hadn't done that, and suddenly she felt guiltier than ever about it. She wanted to tell Hiccup so bad, about the little baby inside her that was _half her _and _half him. _It was kind of wild how her entire perspective on children had changed in the small amount of time that she'd known about her pregnancy. Maybe that was a testament to how much she loved Hiccup, to how much she knew he was capable of. He would make an amazing father, and perhaps that contributed to her new outlook.

The wind picked up from above her and she looked up alongside Stormfly, spotting a portly dragon fluttering down to the island. Grump, Gobber's dragon, snorted and sniffed as it drifted down onto the sand several feet from Astrid and Stormfly, relaxing as Gobber started to dismount.

"Hey, Gobber," Astrid said, offering a half-hearted wave. "Where'd you go?"

"Ah, went to see Hiccup, try and talk some sense into 'im," Gobber grunted, sliding down to the ground. He shook his right leg, the one with the peg leg on the end. Astrid knew that he'd complained about his leg falling asleep sometimes during flight. "No use. He won' talk to me," Gobber groused, sticking his peg leg back into the sand and showing no sign that it was still bothering him.

"He's pretty upset, I take it."

"He's just stewing. I actually think he's calmed down a bit. When I was there, he just looked… sad," Gobber lamented. He pointed his eyes at the ground. Hiccup was the only person that had been closer to Stoick than Gobber was. They were both feeling similar pain, only the way they were each going about it was very different. "He blames himself a lot more than he might be lettin' on. He does that a lot."

"Tell me about it…" Astrid muttered.

Gobber shrugged. "We'll give 'im some more time, maybe he'll sober up by then. Anyways, what did I miss?"

Astrid shrugged. "Just… getting some of my rations. I was about to start getting people together to feed the dragons."

"Let me handle that," Gobber immediately insisted. Astrid tried to protest, to swear that she was fine and could take care of it, but Gobber cut her off, all too familiar with her. "You've been handling everything since we landed. Take a load off, lassie. Uncle Gobber will take care of feeding time."

Astrid relented, deflating as it dawned on her just how much she needed to sit down. "Alright. Thanks, Gobber."

The old blacksmith smiled, his fake tooth pushing his smile out of alignment. "Don't mention it, lass." He snapped his fingers at Grump, getting the large Hotburple to get up and walk with him. Astrid told Stormfly to follow, so she did, and she reached out for just a second to brush Grump's scales with her fingers as he passed. Hotburples were always so warm. Once the blacksmith and two dragons were gone, and Gobber's yelling reached her ears, she looked for a place to sit.

Across the island, she spotted two figures sitting on a log. A Thunderdrum was in the sand in front of the pair, lying flat along the ground. She recognized the two figures pretty easily, the man sitting stock still while the young woman did everything in her power to feel the man up. Eret and Ruffnut, no doubt.

She walked over to them. She could tell when a man was in need of rescue, and this was one of those times. She'd once run off a barmaid that had been flirting with Hiccup—although that hadn't so much been a cry for help on Hiccup's end as it had been a burning desire deep in her gut to make it _very_ clear that he belonged to her and her alone. She'd nearly knocked that poor maid's teeth out.

The Thorston girl almost leapt to her feet when Astrid spoke, having not been paying a lick of attention to her surroundings as she rubbed her hands all over Eret's toned figure. "Ruffnut."

Ruffnut recovered from her scare and looked over her shoulder. "Oh, hey, As," she said. Astrid raised an eyebrow. What was with the nickname? Trying to make herself seem cooler in front of Eret?

"Go help the others feed the dragons," Astrid ordered.

Ruffnut brushed her off. "Alright. Just let me have five more minutes to admire this… _Mmm, I like that…" _Ruffnut drawled, grinning in Eret's face and honking one of his biceps. One look at Eret made it clear that he was enormously uncomfortable.

"_Ruffnut."_

When Astrid raised her voice, Ruffnut threw her head back and groaned, beyond annoyed. "Ugh, okay!" she complained, launching to her feet. She kissed her fingers and stooped down, reaching to plant the 'kiss' on Eret's lips as he tried to lean out of her reach. Ruffnut didn't seem to notice, winking at him before she turned and skipped away.

Astrid collapsed onto the log beside Eret, replacing Ruffnut. Her legs cried out with relief. "Sorry about her," she grumbled, settling in.

Eret shrugged, "That's alright. She seems like a nice girl, she just… comes on a bit strong, no?"

Astrid laughed, appreciating the brief rush it gave her. For a moment, it felt like the weight of everything that had transpired in the last few hours were lifting off of her shoulders. "I'm not sure I'd say _nice, _but 'comes on strong' is Ruffnut's middle name."

"I thought it was Eugene."

Astrid flinched, cracking an involuntary smile. "She told you? Already?" she half-laughed.

"I believe her exact words were, _I can't wait to get rid of it and attach your name to mine." _Eret grimaced as he recalled it, eyes widening in a sort of proxy embarrassment.

Astrid put her head in her hands, laughing some more. "Oh, Ruff. Subtle as always."

Eret leaned forward and stuck out his palm, brushing his fingers against his Thunderdrum's head. The Tidal Class dragon answered with a low, appreciative rumble.

Astrid eyed the wicked scars marking the dragon's eye, remembering it from Valka's raid on Drago's fleet. She'd let the Thunderdrum out of its cage as they were searching for Stormfly, and it had taken a brief interest in Eret before flying off.

"How'd he find you?" Astrid asked.

Eret shrugged. "I figure he found his way into Valka's pack after he took off, went with them to the mountain, same as us. From there, he snuck up on me after you guys ditched me."

"We left you at the mountain with good reason, so you would rest up," Astrid corrected.

The ex-trapper smiled wryly. "You should be able to tell by now that I'm not fond of 'resting up'."

"Would you understand if I said I still didn't fully trust you back then?" Astrid said.

Eret shrugged again, and then he grinned. "Are you saying you trust me now?"

Astrid rolled her eyes. "Ugh. Not if you're going to put it like that. You're a manageable nuisance, at best."

"Wow. Rude."

Astrid allowed herself a small laugh and looked at the Thunderdrum again. "Have you thought of a name?"

Eret likewise looked at the dragon. He frowned. "I was so focused on getting to Berk, and to be honest I figured there was a decent chance we'd both die either along the way or after we made it. I'm happy to have been wrong, but I didn't set aside any time for naming this big guy." He made a puzzled look, considering ideas. "What about Screamer?"

Astrid made a face. "That's terrible."

"Yeah, I don't really like screamers either," Eret grinned, apparently proud of himself. Astrid narrowed her eyes at the lame attempt at a lewd joke.

"I'm already regretting coming over here."

"Alright, alright, I'll actually try this time," Eret conceded. He brought his hand to his chin, stroking the very faint hint of stubble growing there. "Thorönd," he said, and for a split second, it caught Astrid off-guard. She cocked an eyebrow, pondering.

"The spirit of Thor?"

Eret shrugged. "Yeah, I mean… he's a strong dragon, and he's been through a lot," he gestured to the grievous scars twisting through the skin near the dragon's eye, "but he's still kicking. He's a fighter."

The Thunderdrum lifted his head off of the sand, a whispered, inquisitive groan rumbling out of its throat, golden eyes blinking curiously.

"Thorönd," Eret repeated, more confidently this time. The Thunderdrum hummed and butted his head forward, nudging Eret's knee. The trapper grinned.

"I think he likes it," Astrid said. Thorönd butted into Eret's knee again and he reached down to stroke the dragon's blue scales, earning an appreciative sigh from the dragon. The Thunderdrum keeled over, leaning into Eret's touch. When he finally stopped scratching, Thorönd huffed in annoyance, but relented and went back to resting.

"Anyways, where's Hiccup?" Eret asked, a frown creasing across his face as he sat up straight again. "That was… kind of intense, what happened back there. Is he alright?"

"He's not back from the other island yet. He said he just wanted some time alone."

"He was really upset with his mother."

"There's a lot going on between them. Everyone thought that she was carried off by dragons when he was a baby, but it turned out that she befriended them and just… never came back," Astrid explained. "And she wasn't as cooperative as he wanted her to be while we were preparing for Drago. He's convinced that we could've won if she'd been there with us. And now, with his dad…" Astrid started to trail off, so Eret jumped in.

"That's really tough. I can sort of relate. My mother abandoned me when I was little, too."

"I'm not really even sure that _abandoned_ is the right classification for what Valka did. I mean, she _did_ leave her baby and husband behind forever, but I can tell that she feels bad about it, you know? She knows that it was wrong. There's something more going on there," Astrid explained.

"We can agree to disagree. But I do understand where he's coming from, a little bit. My mom's been out of my life for so long, that if I suddenly met her one day, I wouldn't want anything to do with her. I've gotten along well enough in my life ever since she hung me out to dry," Eret said, "Meeting his mom the way he did, all it really did for him was dredge up old memories and make him realize they were a pack of lies. I'm not sure there are many things that hurt more than that." Eret looked down at his chest, eyeing the partial burn peeking out from the collar of his vest, "Well, apart from this," he said, gesturing to the burn scar. He started to laugh, and then broke out into a fit of coughing. When he was done with that, he wheezed, "Still hurts."

"Go talk to Gothi about getting more medicine for that. She ought to have something," Astrid advised.

"I can handle it," Eret brushed her off.

Astrid glared, pinning Eret in place. She wasn't playing this game with him. "Eret. Listen to me. Go. See. Gothi."

Eret shivered for a second and held up his hands, resigning. "Alright, alright. I'll cut you a deal. I'll go talk to that terrifying old woman…" Ah, so that was the deal. He hadn't recovered from Gothi's poking and prodding when she'd first treated him. Astrid grinned inwardly. "…if you go find Hiccup and knock some sense into him. I know that he's grieving, and he'll need time for that… but we're going to need both of you if we're going to beat Drago."

Astrid paused, pondering Eret's words. "Do you really think that?"

"After being forced to spend the last several days with almost no one but the two of you?" Eret quipped, wearing a smirk, "I _know_ that. You two are the greatest of combinations, and that's coming from me, of all people."

Astrid felt her lips curl up in a smile. She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, thinking of Hiccup. She looked at her belly, still flat and hiding her pregnancy, and again thought of their child growing inside her. The baby was going to have the best parts of both of them, she knew that. "Alright, Eretson. You've got yourself a deal. You go get checked out, I'll go talk to Hiccup." She stood up off of the log and held out her hand.

Eret forced himself to his feet as well, extending his hand to shake Astrid's in acceptance. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Astrid. I'll see you soon." He started to walk away, only to stop after about a dozen paces and realize that his dragon wasn't following. He looked over his shoulder and called. "Thorönd, c'mon!"

The Thunderdrum looked up and pushed himself to his paws, ambling over through the sand. The dragon was at Eret's feet in an instant, and Astrid caught the former trapper's slight grin. "Hey, I'm getting used to that," Eret muttered. Thorönd snapped his teeth and Eret promptly rolled his eyes, as if he knew exactly what the dragon was trying to say. He turned on his heel and bantered with the beast, _"Oh, don't give me that sass. I'm finding us some dinner, and then I need you to protect me from an old hag armed with a staff."_

Astrid smiled as she watched them go. Eret was already turning into one of them, ragging on his dragon and it on him. She blinked and rose to her feet, turning her gaze to the rest of the beach at large. She needed to find Stormfly.

* * *

It was easy to find where Hiccup had gone. The neighboring island that he'd picked was a pile of sand barely a minute's flight away, and he was making no attempt to hide from sight. Toothless had curled up in the sand, his black shape a dead giveaway in the orange light of the sunset. As Astrid and Stormfly drew closer, she noticed Hiccup sitting by the dragon's side, leaning against the Night Fury and just staring out to sea.

Hiccup looked in their direction as Stormfly touched down at one end of the tiny beach. The Nadder trilled curiously, cooing as she examined her new surroundings and all the accompanying smells. Astrid felt her husband's gaze on them as she stashed her axe in Stormfly's saddlebag. She wouldn't need it. Then she swung her left leg over Stormfly's body and slid down the dragon's right side. Only once her boots sank into the sand did she look up and meet Hiccup's eyes.

"Hi," he greeted, and then he turned to look back at the ocean again. Astrid scrunched up her face, stunned. Was that really all he had for her?

"Hi," she said back, matter-of-factly. She hoped that he picked up on how very disappointed in him she sounded. When Hiccup didn't move or acknowledge her further, she padded across the beach towards him. Stormfly stayed put behind her, recognizing that what was about to go down didn't involve her.

Astrid kept walking until her shadow cast itself over Hiccup. She took a quick glance down at Toothless, who was looking up at her with cool chartreuse eyes, as if to say, _I tried my best. Your turn._

"How is everyone?" Hiccup finally said. He could tell he wasn't getting out of this. His eyes were so bleary, and he appeared to have a slight sunburn coming on across his face. He just looked awful. He was really down in the dumps.

"Waiting for their Chief," she answered flatly.

"They should start looking elsewhere. They don't want me to be their Chief."

Astrid narrowed her eyes. "That's not their choice."

"But it is mine," Hiccup replied instantly. "I failed them. I got my father killed. I made them abandon our home and leave their friends behind."

"Hiccup," Astrid groaned, "That isn't true. For one thing, we don't even know if Stoick's really dead."

"Drago would be an idiot not to kill him, and that's if my dad didn't even die on his own. You didn't see him, Astrid. Part of me thought that nothing could ever hurt my dad. I can't even remember the last time I saw him _bleed. _If he's alive right now, he's never going to walk again. Not really. And it's _my _fault."

The guilt started piling down on Astrid. Hiccup looked as broken as she'd ever seen him, like there was no light left in the world. Looking back on everything, she couldn't help but blame herself. Her hard expression broke, exasperated as she tried—pathetically, if she was being honest—to convince him otherwise. "It's not your fault, Hiccup."

Hiccup scoffed, "How do you figure that, Astrid? When we first got back, we should've taken everyone and left. That would've been the smart thing to do, after what we'd seen and knew. But I convinced my dad to stay and fight it out."

"It would've been harder to convince him to leave," Astrid replied, "Berk is our home. No one would've wanted to leave it behind just to save ourselves."

"So, we're all boar-headed and stubborn beyond belief, that's just great," Hiccup snapped. He surged to his feet—hey, that was progress—and dealt her a cross look. Toothless warbled with worry over the sudden move, lifting his flat head from the sand.

"Well, we are Vikings," Astrid drawled in a futile attempt at humor. That was really her husband's thing, anyway. When Hiccup didn't so much as smirk, she swallowed. Instead, Hiccup sagged his shoulders, turning his back to Astrid and running a pale hand down the length of his face.

"Like it or not, I did all of this. I ignored my dad's every warning. He told me over and over again not to go looking for Drago, and I didn't listen. That got us locked up. I ignored my own better judgment to try and defend Berk, even though I was stacking the deck against us by hiding the dragons to protect them. Now we're on the run and in the middle of nowhere. And then I blamed my mother for everything and pushed her away just to try and absolve myself of my own disastrous failure," Hiccup said, disparaging himself with every word. He snorted, a dry, humorless chuckle rattling out of his throat as he turned a little, keeping Astrid in his periphery. "Not bad for my first day on the job, huh? You should just take over, before I fuck things up even more than I already have."

Astrid went stock still, her jaw slack as she stared at her husband with disbelief. She looked down at her feet, and her gaze wandered to her flat stomach. Slowly clenching her teeth, Astrid balled her fists and paced towards Hiccup, her footsteps blazing with purpose.

He noticed her coming, turning completely as she surged at him. She must've looked livid, because he seemed startled. "What—" he started, but he was cut off as she reared her arm back and slapped him across the face. Her hand nearly spun him completely around, igniting his cheek with a sting unlike anything she'd ever given him.

"_Ow!" _he hissed, catching his footing and whirling back to face her as he protested, _"Why _would you _do _that?"

"Shut up."

"I'm asking as nicely as I can, Astri—"

"Just shut up!" Astrid raised her voice, finally communicating that she meant business. "I am tired of listening to you blame yourself for this as if it never would've happened if it weren't for you. Because _that's. Not. True."_

"Why are you so mad?" Hiccup interjected, his tone telling her in no uncertain terms that he just wanted her to stop talking. Well, she wouldn't. Someone had to get through that thick skull of his.

"I'm mad because you aren't!" Astrid fumed, "You're lying here on this pile of sand moping instead of facing your people, blaming yourself for something that you aren't responsible for!"

"Well what do you want me to do!? Go back to Berk, dragons blazing, and get us all killed?"

"I want you to pick yourself up and do something about this! To stop hiding inside yourself saying that you can't just because you're afraid of screwing up! Those are your people back there, and they need a leader right now more than ever!"

"I'm not a leader."

"Yes, you are!"

Now Hiccup raised his voice, figuring he might as well go ahead and turn her visit into a shouting match. "I can't even protect my own, the most basic thing my dad ever taught me! Who am I going to fail next? Gobber? You? Face it, Astrid, this is what I do. I screw things up."

He scoffed loudly, counting his failures on his fingers "I just lost my father, Berk, and my mother in one fell swoop. The pride of Berk, at your service." He made a big show of the title with a wave of his hands, a flurried gesture that made it abundantly clear that he didn't think he deserved to be the pride of anywhere. It stung Astrid like a Nadder spike, the venom on his tongue injecting itself into her and making her want to clutch at her own chest.

With that, Hiccup turned on his heel and stalked in the opposite direction, flopping onto his backside as he reached the shore and just staring out to sea again, like he'd been doing when she arrived, albeit without Toothless to lean against.

All over again, Astrid could see the scrawny boy in the forge rearing his awkward little head, timid but so desperate to help, and when that finally failed for the last time, retreating so he could protect himself from the shame, whether he'd brought it against himself or others did. He wanted so badly to undo what had been done, and the reality that he couldn't was suffocating him.

And all Astrid could think about was how she could've steered him away. She'd been the one to break him out of his father's house so they could find Drago. She'd been the one to then race down and try to assassinate Drago. They weren't standing where they were because of Hiccup and his mistakes, but rather because of hers. Because of… well, everything that she'd done. Or rather, what she hadn't done.

Could she have kept him from Drago, if she'd just told him about the baby? They'd agreed that they weren't in a rush to have a family, but she knew that he wanted one. One of their wedding gifts had been a crib fashioned by Gobber, and although they'd both laughed it off and sarcastically said that they'd put it to good use, she'd woken up one night weeks ago and saw his silhouette playing with the bars of the crib, as if he were checking it for the slightest structural imperfection. She was sure he'd never noticed that she was even awake, and she'd gone back to sleep a few minutes later with a smile. If she hadn't been so breathtakingly afraid herself, she might've put off those herbs altogether after that moment.

It was high time that she fixed that mistake. She'd known about the baby for days and kept it a secret because it was just so _inconvenient_ at the time. But this child growing inside her wasn't an inconvenience. Rather, it was a creation born out of love, a gift from the gods to a loving husband and wife.

"It isn't your fault that this happened, Hiccup," Astrid tried again, softer this time.

Hiccup scoffed, back still turned to her. "My dad is most likely dead. My mom is gone, _again, _because I asked her to be. Everything is my fault."

"I mean it. It's not your fault, it's not your mom's fault," Astrid said, "It's mine."

Hiccup started to say something, probably to question her on how in the world she'd come to that conclusion, when she said it. Two short words, out like a flash of lightning from Thor's anvil. Her most important secret laid bare.

"I'm pregnant."

That shut him up.

Instantly.

She watched his body go stiff, holding her breath as Hiccup turned his head in her direction, standing in one quick motion and facing her. He was leaning on his back foot, like he was ready to avoid some incoming attack or run for the hills.

"What?" he managed, his strangled, nasally voice almost making Astrid laugh. She was glad that she didn't. Instead, she tangled her fingers in with one another and nervously looked down at her feet again, her blonde curls bobbing as she did so.

"Yeah," she said, tapping one of her fingers against the back of her opposite hand. "This isn't how I wanted you to find out, I—I wanted to tell you in our house, maybe by the fire, I just… I was afraid that you would think of me differently if… if you knew."

Hiccup took a few steps towards her. "What do you mean, different? Why would you think that?" he asked, softly.

Astrid shook her head, disappointed in herself. "I don't know. Because that's how everyone sees pregnant women? It makes me feel weak, even though I should feel strong. And I thought you were right about Drago, too. I really did. I was so angry with your dad for keeping you in his house."

"H-how long have you known?" Hiccup asked now, his gaze starkly sobered. He was getting closer now, and Astrid began to feel more and more cornered with each step. Not that she thought Hiccup would ever hurt her, or anything of the sort. She was simply unraveling in front of him, and the reality of what she'd kept from him now seemed so… ludicrous. Inconsiderate. And now, with everything that had happened, ruinous.

"Uh, about a day before I broke you out of your old room. After I found out, I thought we could defuse the whole Drago situation and then I would tell you. But if I told you before that was taken care of, you'd want to sit me down and make me stay at home. When you knew that you were never going anywhere without me going with you."

Hiccup cocked his head slightly, now just a few paces away from her. "But then…?"

"Trying to kill Drago?" Astrid asked, figuring that she knew where he was going with this, "Yeah, that was a sudden change of plans. I hadn't heard your dad's story about the chiefs until we were about to leave, and by then it was too late to change my mind about going. So, I thought it would be more expedient to just off Drago where he stood and be done with it. I was… an idiot."

Hiccup laced his fingers with hers, his hot breath brushing across her face. Astrid trembled where she stood, cracks flashing across her sturdy façade. She crumbled all at once, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry for keeping this from you. How could I do that? If you want to be angry, I understand. I deserve it. I knew that you would want to know, and it killed me to stay quiet, but still I—"

She startled as Hiccup wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and resting his head on her shoulder. He squeezed her, as if she'd drift away from him if he didn't hold her firmly enough.

"I could never be angry with you for this," he said so softly that she felt as if a Valkyrie were whispering in her ear, calling her home to Valhalla. "I'm sad, because I made you feel like you needed to keep this from me for your own sake."

Astrid shook her head against his shoulder, fiercely fighting back her tears and trying to absolve him of the guilt he was now attempting to heap upon himself. _Selfish little half-troll._ "You didn't do anything wrong. It was my decision."

"But now I'm happy. I'm so, so happy, because you're telling me that you're carrying our baby. There's a little girl in there somewhere that _we_ made. I'm picturing everything now… showing her the sky and teaching her how to fly… running around the house trying to make her eat her greens and then secretly showing her where I hide mine because you're just terrible at cooking them."

Astrid laughed, a choked-up giggle that filled her with this warmth that she'd never felt before. Of course he had to go throw in a light-hearted insult there about her cooking. She'd get him back for it later. "What if the baby's a boy?" she asked instead, wondering what beautiful response he'd come up with next.

"Then that's just as wonderful," he replied, and he surpassed her expectations with only five words, and it reminded her why she'd fallen in love with him all over again. How did he manage to make simple words sound so beautiful? It was like he wasn't even trying.

Her mind turned to what had transpired between them before her confession. She regretted shouting at him, and somehow knew that he regretted shouting back at her. But she did have one question to answer for him.

"I'm here right now because I know how hard this must be for you. But I was the first to believe in you, Hiccup. What happened to the stubborn kid who kept running outside during raids because he wanted to help? You're so scared of failing now that you would just rather not try, and you've never been that way," Astrid said. "I love you, and I know that you can get us through this. But you have to believe in yourself, too.

"Your people are back there, waiting for you, because they believe. Of course, they all loved Stoick. But they love you, too, and there's a reason they call you the Pride of Berk. Because it's true. You've been training to lead since you were little, even if you didn't know it. And now your time has come, even if it isn't the way you wanted it to. But hasn't that always been your strong suit? When the going gets tough, I've always counted on you. And now the rest of the village is counting on you. Berk is here, and they need their Chief. Will you lead us?"

Hiccup pulled away from her, never breaking his hold on her as he slid his hands back down to hers. Already, he looked so much healthier, eyes full of life and pearly white teeth gleaming as he stood proudly.

"I will. If you'll have me."

"I don't want anyone else," she swore, and before either of them could think to say anything else, she rose up on her toes and kissed him, bringing her right hand to his cheek and gingerly holding it there. He returned the kiss, soft and loving and saying everything that he thought of her without making a sound.

When they separated, the very air seemed to shift. Toothless surged to his feet, padding over to their side and offering an inquisitive warble.

"_Roo?"_

Hiccup beamed, nodding. "Yeah, bud. We're going back."

Toothless practically danced on the sand, and Stormfly came hurtling in their direction with a thrilled squawk. Hiccup laughed, and Astrid watched the weight lift off of his shoulders.

"Drago doesn't know what he's gotten himself into," Astrid said, fearless.

Hiccup smiled and agreed. "No, he doesn't."

* * *

**On t****he name of Eret's dragon - special thanks to Areias for suggesting the name "Thorönd" for Eret's Thunderdrum in this story. It means "the spirit of Thor", which I think is appropriate enough.**

**Next time on _Ghosts: _Berk seeks the aid of a certain tribe of female pirates in retaking their home...**


	17. The Burglars of Bog

**This time on _Ghosts: _A little more aftermath on Berk while the Berkians seek aid from their allies to take back their home. Meanwhile, Hiccup makes a decision.**

* * *

_**17\. The Burglars of Bog**_

The Singetail flapped its wings as it descended, laying on the ground from exhaustion once its feet returned to the earth. Krogan roughly let go of the chains in his hands, startling the red-scaled dragon as the metal smacked down on its back and the general slid out of his saddle. The olive-skinned man wore a scowl as he walked further into the village. He and a contingent of riders had left the island to search for the Berkians, coming up empty-handed. The sun had risen on Berk again, and the conquered village was not a pretty sight.

Smoke was still rising from the burn piles. The dead—on both sides—had been cremated en masse ever since the battle was declared won the previous night. Digging individual graves was a waste of manpower, and, in Drago's eyes, too honorable. He cared little for the men that followed him, but he cared even less for the dragon-loving Vikings that had lost their lives in the fruitless defense of their island.

Once the majority of the dead had been piled up and the cremations began, the majority of the army had turned to looting the houses, stealing valuables and digging through food stores for just about anything they could find. There was a delirious uproar when it was determined that there were zero women left in the village. That was always the best part of victory for the animals that made up the army: the human spoils. Women were always rounded up and brutalized after victories, and once the soldiers realized there were none to be found, morale had promptly plummeted. Everyone had _seen _the female warriors scattered throughout the village during the attack, but now, the only Vikings left on the island were imprisoned men that hadn't been fortunate enough to escape.

Krogan made his way up the hill to the sturdy house on the edge of the forest. After the battle, Drago had claimed it as his own for the time being. It had been easy to tell that the house belonged to the village Chief, considering that it overlooked the entire village from the hilltop it stood on. The inside was resplendent for a Viking home, furnished with the finest woods and furs and a truly divine hearth near the back of the room.

Krogan didn't knock before opening the door, striding into the house's low lighting. A hulking shape sat near the hearth; its massive back turned to him. He fell to one knee, genuflecting before the Dragon God.

"My lord," he greeted. Drago barely reacted, turning his enormous head ever so slightly so that Krogan could only see the tip of the conqueror's nose. Drago Bludvist sneered in answer.

"Did you find them?"

Krogan shook his head, "I'm afraid not. We found evidence that the Vikings made camp at an island to the south of here, but they were long gone when we arrived. We've no idea where they've gone."

Drago returned his gaze forward so that his back was again facing Krogan, grunting as he stoked the fire. "To another island where there are more people with dragons."

Krogan's brow furrowed. "There are more?"

"The Chief's records suggest it. Many tribes of dragon lovers, under our nose infesting these islands. They sicken me."

"I as well, my lord. We will find them and make them suffer the same fate as those of Berk."

"No," Drago ordered. He surged to his feet, his long dreadlocks shifting to fall against his shoulders rather than over his head as he turned to face Krogan, dwarfing the Mediterranean man. "We cannot divide our men searching for the other islands when the boy will return at any moment. He knows where they are and will spread the word of our invasion. When _Hiccup_ returns, he will return with all of them fighting by his side. We must focus our strength here and destroy them before moving on."

Krogan personally disagreed, but he was not one to contradict Drago's orders. The man had lasted as long as he had for a reason. Krogan had spent years gaining his trust and knew all too well that the slightest transgression could coerce the Dragon God to snap and inflict whatever harm upon a man that he deemed sufficient. He would not place himself at the mercy of Drago's anger.

"As you wish, my lord. What would you have me do instead?" Krogan inquired.

Drago pondered ideas for a moment, dreadfully silent in the process. It made the house too quiet, causing Krogan's skin to crawl. "Comb the island for any dragons or spies. Bring any dragons to the Alpha, slaughter any people. Griselda is to interrogate the prisoners for information."

Krogan smiled wryly. Interrogation and torture _were _Griselda's favorite activities, other than actual fighting. If there was information to be found, she would work her hardest to get it. "The Chief?" he asked, wondering if Griselda's task would also apply to the injured mountain of a man called Stoick the Vast. Before last night, he had only ever heard tell of the man, knowing him as a great dragon killer. Learning of his apparent defection to the side of the dragons had been _quite _the disappointment.

Drago shook his enormous head, ruffling his dreadlocks in the process. "No. I won't risk the health of our most prized prisoner. He will be questioned, but nothing more."

Krogan nodded fiercely, "I understand. He will witness the consequences of his betrayal against humanity, in time."

If Drago agreed, he made no effort to show it. Without so much as a formal order, Krogan rose to his feet and stepped out of the house, closing the door behind him and taking a whiff of the morning air. The heathen village sprawled beneath him, now teeming with the movements of men clad in black armors rather than the filth of Vikings and dragons.

Krogan had seen many conquests at Drago's side, but strangely, this was one of the most satisfying, even if they had ultimately gained little from it. His station had been bolstered with Chaghatai's death, though the dragons they'd expected to find were still out there somewhere, along with the hope and heir of the Vikings that called this miserable rock home. The status of that boy, _Hiccup, _inspired a crude laugh from Krogan's lungs. He was completely confident in the boy's incompetence, but Drago was undoubtedly right when he said that Hiccup would return, and likely with the aid of these other Viking tribes.

They would have to ensure that they would be victorious whenever that day was, and the first step to accomplishing that was searching the island for stragglers. If they were lucky, he and his Flyers might find a few wild dragons to add to their ranks.

Krogan mounted his Singetail, responding to its pathetic whine by lashing the chains he used as reins against its back. The red-scaled dragon hushed at that and lifted off, resisting no further as they went to gather the other Flyers.

* * *

The Bog-Burglar Islands—not to be confused with Breakneck Bog and colloquially called the Bog Isles—were one of Hiccup's favorite places in the archipelago. Located far to the southwest from Berk, the cluster was made up of two larger islands surrounded by many smaller ones. Most of the islands' land area was covered with thick swamps, except for the northernmost island, where the village of Bog was situated. The town was larger than Berk, thanks to the island itself being bigger, and populated entirely by warrior women that also at times doubled as thieves and pirates. Fortunately, there was a long-standing alliance between the Vikings of Berk and the Bog Burglars.

Hiccup wished that their sudden arrival could be under better circumstances. They'd been flying since first light, and all of their dragons were terribly exhausted. It had been necessary to put as much distance as they could between themselves and Drago, who would surely send out search parties. That was why Hiccup had chosen to go to Bog. It was the furthest inhabited land from Berk, and therefore the most difficult to get to.

The sight of land on the horizon sent up a great cheer through the crowd, and the dragons now flew with a renewed vigor, eager to reach land and rest.

"Almost there," Astrid said, her first words to Hiccup since they'd risen from bed (or rather, sand).

Hiccup peered through his spyglass as he answered, concurring. "I hope we don't startle them. Cami will probably be out there as soon as we touch down, so we'll need to talk to her and Bertha immediately and get them up to speed."

"If only we were visiting under brighter tidings. It's a big ask requesting a place to stay for a while from Bertha," Astrid said, looking over at him. The wind caught her blonde locks and sent them flowing behind her, her windblown image sending _way _too much of Hiccup's blood flow to the south. He nodded feverishly.

"I know. Fortunately, the second island has enough space to house the rest of us. It's a little swampy, but it'll have to do. And we'll owe her one, big time."

Hiccup took another look through his spyglass, noticing the shapes of people filling the village square as they drew closer. No doubt, the horde of dragons had drawn the Bog Burglars' attention. Fortunately, they were now living in more peaceful times. In the days of the raids, this many dragons in the sky would instantly set off the alarm bells in the town and summon a volley of catapult shots.

"Looks like the welcoming party is assembled," he commented, and with his hand he signaled for everyone to begin descending. The group slithered down from the sky in waves, the dragons that didn't have riders of their own keeping to themselves while the mounted dragons descended as one to the ground.

The shapes of the Bog Burglar women filled themselves in as Hiccup and the others prepared to land, and in seconds the village square was suddenly full to the brim with both people and dragons. Some dragons landed on houses, others hovered in the air or flew in circles, and more still wedged themselves in between the alleys separating houses if they couldn't find a large enough open space in the crowded square. The dragons from Berk and those from Bog called and hummed at one another, their shrieking adding another layer to the cacophonous noise that had suddenly filled the village.

A familiar face slipped through the throng. She was skinnier than most of her tribeswomen, but in a good way. Her blonde hair was similar to Astrid's, albeit shorter and wilder, and she sported a significantly larger bosom as well. Camicazi, the heir to the Bog Burglar Islands, beamed as she recognized her friends, but there was an obvious discontent as she looked at their numerous guests.

"Hiccup, you mutton-head! What are you lot doing here? You're about eight months early for The Thing!" Camicazi yelled, a little flatly.

"Hello to you too, Cami," Hiccup drawled, "Sorry for the unexpected visit."

"This sure looks like more than a visit. Seems you've brought your whole tribe."

Gobber interrupted, "Well, you know… most of us." Gobber scratched at his jaw gently with the end of his hook as Camicazi's brow knitted together, a befuddled pall darkening her features.

Beyond the crowd, a great shout not unlike that of Stoick the Vast ripped through the town. The bellow was tinged with a hint of femininity, but still held more than enough power to silence all who heard it.

"_What is the meaning of this?"_

Hiccup involuntarily gulped as the sea of Bog Burglars began to part, clearing a path for a busty woman and her great horned helmet. Her shoulders were decorated with chiefly epaulets and a great brown cape, and a hammer ornamented with heavy spikes on its sides dangled from the woman's waist. Big-Boobied Bertha, Chieftess of the Bog Burglars and mother of Camicazi, placed her powerful hands on her hips, scowling.

Behind her, Astrid heard Snotlout whisper _"Woah" _under his breath, undoubtedly staring at Bertha's almost-comically large bosom. Before she could turn her head and scorn Snotlout for his lechery, she heard someone smack him on the helmet, followed by a sharp, hushed _"Ow!" _and then the unmistakable snickering of Ruff and Tuff. Astrid smiled inwardly and no one seemed to notice the exchange.

Hiccup, meanwhile, looked Bertha in the eye respectfully and held a hand up to his heart. "Please forgive our intrusion, Bertha."

The Chieftess cut him off, still wearing that menacing scowl. "You'll have to explain yerself quite a bit better than that, Haddock. Where's your father?"

Hiccup frowned; his answer morose. "Captured. Possibly dead." The assembled Bog Burglars gasped, surprise rippling through their ranks like a lightning bolt. Bertha's own eyes widened in disbelief, though she didn't vocalize her shock. Sensing that Bertha was expecting him to elaborate, Hiccup explained himself. "We were attacked, chased from Berk."

"By who?" Bertha demanded, going tense. Somehow, Hiccup had a feeling that she already had an idea of what his answer would be.

"A man called Drago Bludvist," he replied. The crowd of Bog Burglar women erupted into whispers, and Bertha nodded understandingly, her body language oozing _fear. _Much like with his father, Hiccup had never seen the venerable woman in such a state. Bertha exchanged a look with Camicazi, whose confusion was only growing judging by the look on her face, painfully out of the loop.

Bertha motioned urgently for Hiccup and Astrid to dismount. "You two, come with me. Daughter, you as well."

"What's going on?" Camicazi asked, suddenly just as worried. Her mother wasn't usually like this. But Bertha was already moving on, grabbing another woman with similar blonde hair decorated by streaks of bright red dye.

"Hilda, see to it that the others are put up wherever we can house them. I have pressing business to take care of," Bertha ordered. The woman called Hilda, although she was noticeably perplexed, nodded and Bertha craned her neck to look at Astrid, Camicazi, and Hiccup, gesturing for them to follow.

Astrid and Camicazi started to fall into step behind Bertha, but Hiccup wasn't leaving just yet. He turned to Gobber, still sitting on Grump's back. To him, the blacksmith had a right to be involved in the coming conversation. "Gobber, c'mon," he said hastily.

"Wha?" Gobber inquired, but Hiccup was already moving to the next thing.

"Toothless, I need you and Stormfly to stay and keep the rest of the dragons under control. Can you do that for me, bud?" Toothless licked his scaly lips and did his best to nod, communicating in his way that _of course_ he could do that. Without further ado, the Night Fury sent up a call to the dragons filling the village, drawing their attention.

"Now, hol' on, wait just a minute—" Gobber protested, but Hiccup had already turned on his heel and taken off after the girls. The blacksmith groaned and slid off of Grump's back, patting the Hotburple's side. "Listen ta Toothless an' the ladies, Grump," he ordered, and then he hobbled after his former apprentice. The crowd promptly dispersed, Bertha's lieutenant Hilda taking charge and shouting out orders in typical Bog Burglar fashion. Up ahead, the Chieftess of the Bog Burglars was leading her younger companions up a hill on the north side of the island towards a lone house, larger and taller than the others and not unlike Stoick's own house back on Berk.

Hiccup had only seen Bertha a handful of times in his life, but her pace starkly reminded him of his dad when he was impatient. They were two peas in a pod. She certainly wasn't wasting any time. The busty woman climbed the incline leading up to her house and barreled through her front door, holding it open once she was inside and ushering everyone to follow her. Camicazi entered first, immediately followed by Astrid and then after a few seconds of catch-up, Hiccup and Gobber.

"Hello, Gobber," Bertha greeted as the old blacksmith hobbled over the ridge of the hill and into her house.

"'Ello, Bertha. Good to see ye," he said quickly. Bertha slammed the door shut and turned her attention on Hiccup and Astrid, her glare slicing through them both.

"Now, repeat that to me. What do you mean _Drago Bludvist _attacked you?"

Hiccup's brow furrowed and his forehead creased, his movements the picture of exhaustion. "So, you do know him, like Dad said," he asked.

Bertha looked livid. "Well, of course I know him! He tried to kill me, and your father, too, and he very nearly succeeded!"

For a split-second, Hiccup gaped, but he quickly recalled the night he'd gone looking for Drago with Astrid. She beat him to the punch, recognizing what Bertha was referring to and interrupting.

"The chieftain meeting. You were one of the other survivors."

Bertha nodded somberly, recalling that terrible night. "That I was, as was that lout Mogadon. The three of us were the only ones fortunate enough to escape. And if Drago Bludvist has come back for the Archipelago, gods help us all."

"He arrived at Berk yesterday. We've known that he was coming for us—"

"You _knew _that he was coming? And told no one?" Bertha fumed.

"We thought we could handle him," Hiccup answered flatly, fully aware now how ridiculous that idea had been. Bertha had enough decency not to laugh. Instead, she scorned him, which admittedly wasn't much better, but Hiccup would take it over mockery any day.

"And it cost ye your father," she snapped, shaking her head and lamenting under her breath, "You Berkians and your absurdly thick heads."

"We don't know that he's dead. Drago could've spared him," Hiccup pointed out. Bertha accosted him with a scowl.

"I struggle mightily to believe that."

Gobber waddled his way up to Bertha's side, his braided mustache swaying and his wooden leg clicking as he moved. "If he's truly gone, he went bravely, Bertha. If not for Stoick, we likely would not have been able to make it here," the blacksmith consoled the Chieftess, placing a weary hand on her shoulder.

"I have no doubt, Gobber. Still, the fact remains that he would be here if the information regarding Drago's return had been adequately shared with us," Bertha replied. She turned her eyes on Hiccup, narrowing them, "You lot are not the only dragon riders on these islands anymore. You have to treat us for what we are: allies."

"I know that I made a terrible mistake," Hiccup interjected, "And it won't happen again. I can promise you that, Bertha."

This time, it was Camicazi that spoke up. The wild woman stepped forward, folding her arms firmly across her chest. "Can I butt in here? I'm afraid I'm a bit lost, Mom. Who's this Drago fellow?"

Bertha sighed, looking upon her daughter with concern, "Someone that I'd hoped you would never have to meet. Long ago, he ambushed the Chiefs of the archipelago while we were meeting. He killed everyone except Mogadon, Stoick, and me, and only because we were fortunate enough to escape his dragons."

"Now he wants to add our dragons to his army. He means to use them to rule the world," Hiccup added. He shook his head, aiming his eyes at his own feet, "I tried to stop the war he was bringing, and instead I only succeeded in revealing Berk to him. By now, he might well know about the rest of you."

The young, newly anointed Chief looked up again, focusing on Bertha. "I'm sorry for bringing my people to your doorstep, Bertha. I didn't know what else to do but put as much distance as I could between us and Drago."

"Don't disguise your motive, young man. You sought me out to secure my people's aid in your bid to reclaim Berk," Bertha answered, eyes narrowed.

Hiccup stiffened, and then deflated right before everyone's eyes. "Okay, yeah… pretty much, actually," he admitted, that slightly sarcastic drawl coloring his voice.

Bertha placed her hands on her hips, a smirk unexpectedly rising to her face. "You have it."

Hiccup looked back up at that, caught off-guard. "Huh?" He exchanged a look with Astrid.

Bertha chuckled, all the hostility suddenly rising off of her. She flashed a tough smile, "Of course we will help you, Haddock. Our tribes' alliance is not one that I mean to break, no matter who is in charge or how much you manage to frustrate me. Stoick would be ashamed of me if he knew that I refused to help his son."

Camicazi butted in, _"Tch. _Yeah! We're not backing down from any fight, no matter who it's against! If we did, we wouldn't be Bog Burglars."

Bertha agreed with her daughter and met Hiccup's eyes once more. "You have my women, and our dragons, and anything else that you will need to wipe the stain of Drago Bludvist from this world."

Astrid beamed. "Thank you, Bertha. We won't forget this."

Hiccup unclenched his hands, metaphorically pushing back, "It's not going to be easy. Drago has a dragon that controls all others. An Alpha."

"Alpha, shmalpha. We'll kick that thing's butt, too, teach it to mess with Vikings." Camicazi replied. Astrid grinned at the smaller woman, but Hiccup admittedly grimaced. She didn't know the full story and as a result wasn't fully grasping the situation. That could be fixed later.

Hiccup decided to settle for accepting the Bog Burglars' help. They needed them. "Thank you, Bertha. As Astrid said, we are in your debt."

Bertha shook her head, "There is no debt to be paid. Only revenge. If Stoick is truly gone, then we will avenge him, and we'll avenge everyone else that Drago has murdered, from Chieftain to peasant. I'll also send our fastest riders to Berserk and Freezing-to-Death. If Drago's truly brought an army, our tribes alone will not be enough. Mogadon especially will want a swing at Drago Bludvist, and when Dagur hears that the Meatheads are involved, he won't allow himself to be left out," the busty woman decided.

Hiccup snorted, "Hmph. That he won't."

"In the meantime, make sure that your people get the rest that they need," Bertha suggested.

"We will most certainly do tha'," Gobber said. He motioned for Hiccup and Astrid to follow him out of the house and out of Bertha's hair, so they did, crossing the room towards the door.

Bertha reached out a hand and snatched Hiccup's arm, appraising him with a warm expression. Hiccup went tense, not quite sure what she was playing at as he sat under her gaze. She sent his temperature skyrocketing, and not in a good way.

"Your father…" Bertha started, pausing, "was—is—a great man. I see much of him inside you."

Hiccup held his tongue for a moment, Bertha's words repeating over and over in his head. "I know he is. Thank you, Bertha," he decided to say, nodding in acceptance. He hoped with all his heart that his father was alive, spared from the blade for the time being.

Bertha nodded firmly and then released her hold on his arm, allowing Hiccup to rejoin Astrid and Gobber at the front door. The old blacksmith yanked open the door, letting in the cold morning air, and then ushered the younger couple outside, casting one look over his shoulder at Bertha and Camicazi before exiting and closing the door behind him.

"Daughter," Bertha said wearily, already mentally exhausted at the mere thought of the massive battle ahead. Camicazi looked up faithfully, her wild blonde hair draping over the front of her shoulders. Bertha affixed her with that trademark stare, firm and expectant of her heir, "I have a task for you."

* * *

The Bog Burglar riders departed the island within the hour, mounted on the backs of speedy dragons such as Razorwhips and Deadly Nadders as they split up in different directions; north to head to the westerly island of Berserk, east to Outcast Island, and then just northeast toward Freezing-to-Death, home of the Meathead Tribe.

Down on Bog, the Vikings of Berk were busy settling in, doing their best to avoid imposing on their hosts. Their human numbers were noticeably depleted, though their dragon force was just as strong as usual. Most of the tribe relocated to the secondary island beyond the village, setting up a short-term village of their own out of whatever the Bog Burglars could provide. It was going to be a difficult stay, but everyone seemed to understand that there were worse alternatives, even the most outspoken Vikings in the tribe.

Hiccup and Astrid were among the few of their people that remained on the main island, walking up the path toward the Bog Burglars' version of the Great Hall. Unlike Berk, there were no large mountains on the Bog Burglar Islands, certainly nothing like Raven Point, and their Great Hall as a result was longer and shorter, taking up a huge chunk of the center of the village. The hall served many of the same purposes as its counterpart on Berk, and today—perhaps for the next few days, actually—it would serve for the first time in a long time as a war room.

"You okay?" Astrid asked, walking beside her husband. Hiccup seemed on edge. He had every reason to be, of course. Toothless and Stormfly trailed behind them, silently shadowing the couple.

"Fine," said Hiccup, "Just… thinking. I'm so new at this. It's not exactly how I wanted to start off at being Chief. I know Dad didn't want it like this either."

"Are you worried that you won't have a clue what to do once we're in there?" Astrid asked him. For the sake of reassuring him, she slipped her hand into his, squeezing. Not because she enjoyed holding his hand. Or because his body heat made her feel more relaxed. Obviously.

"Thank you for summing that up," Hiccup drawled.

Astrid smirked, "Try to stop worrying about it. The Bog Burglars need _us _to explain to them what it was like fighting Drago's army. They're going to help us take Berk back from that monster. And if you ever get stuck or need a hand, I'm going to be right there to back you up."

Hiccup smiled now. "Thanks, Astrid. I don't know what I'd do without you." She'd make an incredible general. He made a mental note to file that idea away for later. He was no military tactician. He would need someone to help him with matters of war, and who better than his battle-hardened wife?

"I don't know either," Astrid quipped, grinning like mad.

"Hey, that's uncalled for!" Hiccup exclaimed mockingly. Astrid laughed and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, communicating her support for him without any more words.

"What're you gonna do about it?" she asked, almost taunting him. Hiccup leaned in toward her ear, lowering his voice to that hot, husky tone that made Astrid tingle every time she heard it.

"Do you want to find out?"

It was so inappropriate, on so many levels, for them to even be suggesting such things to one another here. Still, the innuendo served as a slight distraction from the dire events of the last twenty-four hours, and where it had left them. Among other things.

Up until another voice cut the tension between them like an axe. _"Comin' through, lovebirds, make way!"_

Camicazi's shrill cry startled them both, driving Hiccup and Astrid apart as the wild-haired Bog Burglar came running up behind them and forced herself between their shoulders, curling an arm around both of them. A second shriek signaled the arrival of her own dragon, a Changewing she had affectionately named Thatch_**[1]**_. The pair were a match made in Asgard, both enjoying the thrill of swiping small knick-knacks from under the noses of their companions. The acid-spitting dragon materialized to Camicazi's left, clambering over the roof of a building before letting down to the ground and falling into step with Toothless and Stormfly.

"Cami! Timely as always," Hiccup said exaggeratedly.

Camicazi dangled a knife over Hiccup's shoulder in her right hand, waggling its blade at Hiccup. "You dropped this, Hic," she said, and Hiccup rolled his eyes. She'd taken his knife right out of its sheath on his arm, and he hadn't so much as noticed.

He reached out and took his knife back from her, sliding it into its designated place on his forearm, "You don't have to keep proving to me that you're the best pirate on the island, Cami,"

"Ah, don't take it personally. I'm just practicing for when the Berserkers and Meatheads get here. Those guys always have something good on them," Cami explained. They walked under the shadow of the Great Hall and Camicazi paced ahead to open the door for the two Berkians and their dragons. Hiccup, Astrid, Toothless, and Stormfly entered, stepping into the torchlight inside.

The countless tables that Hiccup had been expecting were nowhere to be seen. Instead, a single, large round table and several chairs filled the space. An enormous map of the archipelago draped over the table's area, depicting every island in the archipelago. It wasn't as expansive or detailed as Hiccup's map, but it was more than sufficient enough to serve its purpose. Countless wooden pieces in the shapes of ships, dragons, et cetera were arranged on the map's edge, ready to represent the strengths of the two armies on opposite sides of the region.

Hiccup, Astrid, and Camicazi were the last ones to arrive. Bertha held her place at the head of the table, flanked by the woman called Hilda and a few other Bog Burglar women that Hiccup didn't know. On the other side of the circular table, looking over their shoulders at the newcomers, were the members of the Berk Council, waiting only for the arrival of the new Chief and Chieftess. Well, Acting Chief and Chieftess, pending further notice.

It was intimidating, being surrounded by older, far more experienced Vikings and not having his father to help him along. As Camicazi strutted over to her mother, Hiccup and Astrid took their places on their end of the table, sandwiched between Spitelout and Gobber.

"Alright, Hiccup," Bertha started things off, "Tell us what we need to know."

Hiccup flinched, swallowing as he tried to steady his own nerves. He wetted his lips with his tongue, looking down at the map and the countless wooden pieces arranged nearby. He wasn't ready to do this. Everything. He'd barely even _attended_ any war meetings,much less led them.

A hot breath painted the back of his neck. Hiccup shivered and looked over his shoulder, greeted by Toothless' black scales and kind green eyes. The Night Fury's pupils were wide, encouraging. Toothless offered a terse nod, a low warble escaping his throat. Under his best friend's gaze, Hiccup smiled, suddenly relieved. He cast a look at Astrid and clenched his fists, feeling stronger already as she wordlessly echoed Toothless' sentiment.

Hiccup pointed at the wooden ship figurines, motioning for someone to grab several of them. Not-So-Silent Sven answered the silent call, snatching up a half-dozen of the figures in his hands and sliding them across the map to cluster them on the edge of Berk.

"Drago's army is unlike anything we've ever seen," Hiccup started. Sven moved to return to his place beside the table, and Hiccup frowned, "More," he asserted, so Sven grabbed even more of the figurines. The once-mute man slid three more handfuls of the wooden models to the image of Berk on the map, and even reached to corral a fourth handful.

"You must be joking," a Bog Burglar woman interjected. Sven was getting close to arranging _all _of the allotted ship figurines just around Berk, saving none for their own army.

"I'm not," Hiccup stressed. He tapped his pointer finger on the table aimlessly. "This army… it's unlike anything anyone at this table has fought against. The sheer number of ships was enough to completely clog our harbor and fill the shallows hundreds of feet from the island. Each ship must carry at least fifty men, some of them even more. And that isn't even where Drago's strength comes from."

Hiccup gestured to the other end of the table, where wooden statuettes shaped like dragon's heads were lined up in rows. Phlegma the Fierce answered his gesture this time, grabbing as many of the figurines as she could in her two hands and sliding them towards Berk. "Drago's best weapon is his dragons. He makes them wear armor and controls them with the power of the Alpha species, an enormous dragon called a Bewilderbeast. When I tell you that this dragon is larger than entire islands, I mean it. Every nest has its queen, but this thing's the _king. _Of _all _dragons."

"Which means what, exactly?" a Bog Burglar woman inquired. Bertha still remained dreadfully silent, as if she knew the answers to her people's questions.

"It means that almost no dragon can resist its influence. All it takes is a roar or a look, and it exerts its will on whatever dragon it desires. I don't know how Drago came across such a dragon, but it's clear that he's conditioned it to fear him and listen to him, despite the obvious size difference," Hiccup would've laughed if it weren't so morbid. By all accounts, a dragon like the Bewilderbeast should've been able to simply step on Drago and go on with its life, but that had clearly never been the case. So that left only the explanation that he'd raised the dragon from infancy, nurturing it on the sustenance of absolute fear even as it grew to its titanic size.

Camicazi's brow furrowed, face rippling with bewilderment. "So, our dragons are toast when they fight this thing?"

"Basically. We tried to keep them out of the fight by hiding them and fighting Drago head-on, but that didn't work, either. He attacked us with his dragons first, sending them out to attack and keep us occupied while his fleet entered our harbor. Once his men were on the ground, he pulled the dragons back and let his soldiers do the grunt work," Hiccup explained.

"We managed to hold our own for a while, but eventually their numbers became too much," Astrid added, "Many of his men aren't the best fighters. Several of our people were able to fight with multiple soldiers at once. Drago relies on his numbers and his dragons to beat his opponents, rather than superior tactics."

Hiccup nodded in agreement, "That's our window. If we can outsmart and outmaneuver Drago, we can beat him. Our best chance now will be to keep the Alpha occupied so that the two of them stay disconnected and the army's dragons stay off of us."

"Is there any other way we can resist this Alpha?" Bertha asked.

Hiccup tensed, choosing instead to lie for the time being. "I'm working on it," he decided, filing away that particular concept for later. "What we should focus on is our battle strategy. I'm open to suggestions."

"How does Drago house all of the dragons that he's collected?" the Bog woman named Hilda asked. Her red-dyed braid was curled over her shoulder, and looking at her now, Hiccup noticed the faint scar over her eye for the first time. She looked every inch the battle-hardened Bog woman that the rest of the archipelago knew to fear.

Astrid answered the question for him. "Easy. There are traps on most of his ships, big dome structures made of metal that are controlled by a crank. Most of them will hold at least one dragon."

"Can we focus some of our manpower on freeing those dragons? That trapper's Thunderdrum followed him after being released from its trap. The rest might follow us if we let them out," Ingvar suggested, exchanging looks with everyone at the table.

Hiccup thought about the idea and nodded repeatedly, "I like that idea, Ingvar. Good thinking." The elder Hofferson tipped his helmet at his son-in-law. "Cami, do you think you can handle that?"

Camicazi audibly scoffed, as if the question was insulting. "Easy peasy. Us Bog Burglars are great at staging prison breaks. Just one of our many talents."

Hiccup nodded. "Good. Put together a small team that can stay out of sight while you're working. If we set off an alarm, we'll be in trouble."

"Uh, you've seen me work, right, Hic? No one'll know we're there, and if they do, they'll find themselves taking a nice, long nap," Camicazi assured him. "Thatch will be a big help with this, too."

"Once the Meatheads and Berserkers get here, we'll need to work out our approach on the island," Hiccup said.

"Night-time will be best," Astrid said immediately, "We'll be getting there on dragonback, and that'll get us there quietly and discreetly."

"I agree with the lass," Phlegma seconded. One by one everyone else agreed that Astrid's idea was the best course of action.

"Aye."

"Aye."

"Aye."

The discussion picked up after that, options narrowing down until the councils came to a consensus. "So, it's agreed. We use the cover of night to get to the island undetected and free the dragons in the traps. From there, we ambush the village," Hiccup repeated. Everyone at the table nodded more or less.

"It's a rough plan, and needs refining, but for now, it'll do," Bertha said.

Hiccup nodded, "Then… I guess we're done here, up until Dagur, Alvin, and Mogadon arrive with their people."

"What a show that'll be," he heard Spitelout grouse under his breath. Hiccup made no move to comment on that—mostly because he agreed. He could already picture Dagur rushing in and looking all over the island for him, calling relentlessly for his _'brother'. _The young Berserker Chief, only a few years older than Hiccup himself, had caused him no small number of headaches and anxieties, but no one could deny the battling prowess of Dagur the Deranged.

Everyone at the table approved, and the meeting was adjourned.

* * *

"Have you seen Hiccup?" Astrid asked. Ruffnut peered up from her spear, hard at work sharpening the blade on the end of the shaft. She was sitting on a bench in the town square, her weapon resting perpendicular across her legs. The female twin shrugged, indifferent.

"Him and Toothless were walking through here a while ago. Haven't seen him since, though," Ruff replied. She looked back down at her spear, scraping the whetstone in her hand across the point again.

Astrid sighed. She hadn't been able to find him in the last hour or two. The sun was starting to set, and she was getting concerned. More often than not, he was just out flying with Toothless. Also, more often than not, there was nothing to worry about. She couldn't say the same about right now, though. She was sure that they were far from Drago's reach—at least as far as they could go without leaving the archipelago's borders—but that didn't keep her head from remaining on a swivel, watching for dark armor or a shawl of black dreadlocks.

Stormfly's hot breath brushed against the back of her neck, the Nadder's heavy exhale comforting her. Her beloved dragon hadn't left her side all day, and she was grateful. Stormfly represented just one part of her life that she couldn't afford to lose.

"Maybe it'll be easier to spot him from the air. Give me a lift, girl?" Astrid suggested. Stormfly squawked and leaned forward, offering Astrid easy access onto her back. The Nadder trilled, excited to get to go flying even if it would only be for a short time. Astrid clicked her tongue once she was secure and Stormfly unfurled her wings, lifting off to circle the village.

The first thing she saw was a riding party returning to the island. Judging by the all-female group, it must've been a Bog Burglar patrol. There was no alarm in their flight pattern, so that must've meant that all was well. No enemy sightings in immediate waters. Good.

Astrid craned her neck to scour the island. The town square sprawled beneath her, the space between houses growing the further they drew from the center of the village. On a natural hill overlooking them all was the house of Big-Boobied Bertha, and the sight made Astrid yearn for Berk. The village's layout was so similar to her home.

It stood to reason that Hiccup was not in the town, or she would have found him, so Astrid turned her sights to the outside. She directed Stormfly toward the wooded area of the island, flying over the treetops and scanning the ground below them. Right as they passed over the last of the trees, she saw him.

Well, she saw Toothless. The Night Fury's jet-black scales would never be able to escape her eyes. Unless he was flying at night, but that was kind of the point. Astrid knew that seeing Toothless meant seeing Hiccup, and sure enough, her husband was not far from his dragon at all, standing near a cliff and watching the horizon.

"Down there, girl," Astrid guided Stormfly to the ground, the Nadder chittering happily as she recognized her friend in Toothless. Stormfly curved and arrowed towards the grassy hill, righting herself and digging her claws into the dirt as she landed. Hiccup looked over his shoulder, neglecting to nod in their direction before turning his attention back over the cliff. That struck a nervous chord inside Astrid. Something was up.

She dismounted and as soon as she was on her feet, she was nearly bowled over as Stormfly launched at Toothless, engaging the Night Fury in a game of chase. Toothless gleefully accepted the challenge, surging off the ground to all fours and deftly dodging Stormfly before leading the Nadder in a pursuit.

Astrid giggled to herself and promptly got out of the dragons' way, not keen to intrude any further into their space and find herself trampled to the ground. She'd played the part of roadblock on more than one occasion during the pair's games, and it was not fun. Fixing her eyes on her husband's back, Astrid galloped up the shallow hill toward the cliff's edge. He was staring at the horizon to the northeast, in the rough direction of Berk. The sun was setting in the west, casting a shaft of light on his entire left side. The sun highlighted some of the residual Haddock red in his thick auburn hair, denoting the mix between Stoick and Valka.

"Hey," Astrid greeted, blunt as could be. Hiccup didn't so much as flinch, remaining dangerously quiet. Concerned, Astrid drawled out a question, "What, uh… what's up?"

Hiccup's brow furrowed and his lip tightened, introspective. "Just thinking," he answered.

"Oh," Astrid mumbled. She suddenly felt like she'd intruded, and she knew all too well what it was like to desperately need some personal space. Pins and needles of embarrassment prickled up her back. "Should I go? I can leave you to it—"

Hiccup shook his head, turning his attention from the horizon to her. "No, no. Stay," he said. "I actually want to talk to you about something."

Astrid angled her head a bit. "Okay. What's on your mind?" She stepped up so that she was inches from him, able to feel his haggard breath on her face.

"I've been thinking about what Bertha asked me earlier. If there were any ways that we could resist the Alpha. Remember Mom saying that she broke the Alpha's hold on Cloudjumper, but that it was because of their bond? She couldn't help any other dragons shake off the Alpha's control because she wasn't close with them like she is with Cloudjumper. And while I'd like to say that I have that same bond with Toothless, for instance, I can't risk that."

"You want to go find her," Astrid deduced.

Hiccup sighed, pausing for a moment before nodding his head. "Yeah. I'm trying to find a reason not to, but the fact is we need every last bit of help we can get. We need Cloudjumper. We need Mom," he reasoned, suddenly trailing off and averting his eyes. "And… I feel guilty, too."

Astrid didn't get a chance to answer before Hiccup elaborated. "I regret pushing her away yesterday. I was wrong to do that. I was so mad and so afraid, and I wanted to blame anyone else but myself. So, I lashed out at Mom, because it was easy. I could hide behind her abandoning me as an excuse."

As she listened, Astrid comprehended that Hiccup wasn't looking to the northeast because of Berk. He was looking towards Valka's mountain, where they'd briefly visited when the dragon woman had effectively kidnapped them. She'd presumably gone back there when Hiccup had commanded her to leave.

"Go."

Hiccup stopped talking, appraising her with this surprised, quirky look. "Really?" he asked.

"Yes," Astrid insisted. "I've been telling you to try and have a relationship with your mom. Go find her and fix your issues with her. I know what she did hurts you, and I won't condone her actions, but she's still your mother. You need her in your life. Don't let her die alone in a cave with dragons."

"What about the tribe?" Hiccup asked, seemingly still trying to find that reason to not take off and go.

"I think I can handle them, no? I am their future Chieftess, after all," Astrid answered, smirking, "They'll just have to deal with a girl ordering them around instead of big, strong Hiccup."

Hiccup snorted, flashing a look to the side as he retorted, "I think they actually fear you more than me. I know I'm afraid of you sometimes, at least."

"Sometimes?" Astrid challenged, as if he'd insulted her.

Hiccup raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, all the time," he wrapped his arms around her now, tugging her close and continuing the jest, "But if you want to be around someone that for whatever reason is too stupid to be afraid of you, you can always leave me for Snotlout."

"Ugh, take a half-wit husband _and _lose my status? No thanks," Astrid quipped.

Hiccup instantly acted scandalized, mouth making a wide 'O' shape as he sucked in a mortified breath. "_Oh_, so _that's _what you're in this for! I knew I shouldn't have ignored all the gossip! The old wives were right all along! Curses!" He lifted Astrid off the ground, giggling relentlessly with her in between breaths. She had to loop her arms underneath his and around his upper back, holding herself steady as Hiccup practically danced on the hill with her suspended off the ground in his grasp.

Something flickered across his face that stopped them both in their tracks. "Oh, I almost forgot. There's something else I need to show you."

Hiccup flagged Toothless down with a whistle, and the Night Fury reluctantly peeled away from Stormfly to wander over to him. Hiccup stepped away from the cliff and met him mostly halfway, accepting a gentle nudge with a _"Hey, bud," _before rifling through his saddlebag. Astrid's lip crooked with a frown as he muttered to himself, finally finding what he was looking for and smiling.

Hiccup walked around Toothless to meet her again, holding a piece of parchment in his hands. He was admiring whatever he'd written on it, green eyes flicking back and forth across the page. As soon as he reached her, he turned the paper over and handed it to her so she could see. Astrid took it from him, taking in the image of some kind of device. Arrows were scrawled back and forth across them, two decently sized cup-like shapes connected to one another by a large band. Runes had been scribbled alongside the arrows, spelling out words like _attaches to head _and _hopefully soundproof._

"What are these?"

"They're mufflers,_**[2]**_" Hiccup replied. Astrid snapped her head up to meet his eyes, feeling the questioning look ripple across her features. Before she could ask, he explained. "They're cups that you put on the dragons' heads to cover their ears. It's a little idea I sketched out a long time ago after the Red Death, to protect our dragons in the future if we needed to make a lot of noise. But I never had a use for it, so I stuffed it away. Until now."

"But I thought it was the mind that the Alpha controls,"

"It is. But the Red Death was the same way, to an extent. Obviously, she wasn't a straight-up Alpha, at least as far as we know, but she controlled them the same way, and we were able to thwart that easily enough." That was true, it had just taken keeping the dragons focused. Stormfly had lost focus and fallen victim to the Red Death's control, causing her to get pretty seriously hurt during that battle. "This is just expanding on that concept. Adding a little more armor of sorts to the mix."

"So, these should block out the Alpha's call so we can bring our dragons into the fight," Astrid reasoned.

"Exactly. I need you to make sure these are being built while I'm gone. The Bog blacksmith has a copy of the plans, but she needs help if she's ever going to come close to the quota. I asked Bertha to have the other tribes bring their smiths when they come, so that'll give you some extra hands. They're pretty easy to make, a decent smith will be able to build one in a half-hour, tops," Hiccup explained, "And they can be made out of anything; leather, wood, metal. Whatever's on hand."

Astrid nodded. She felt like she could manage that. "Okay. Consider it done."

Hiccup gave her a bright smile that made her heart skip a beat. She had to tilt her head up a bit to meet his eyes. Seriously, sometimes she didn't adequately appreciate how much taller he'd grown in the last few years. He'd taken longer than most to hit his growth spurt, but it was worth the wait. A cool evening wind blew at her back, hitting Hiccup's face and pushing his auburn locks back a bit.

She almost jumped when he leaned forward to kiss her without a word, but almost as soon as his lips touched hers, she was pushing back. She involuntarily reached up to fist her hands in his hair, and his hands drifted down to her hips, further deepening the kiss.

She had to pull away before she lost herself in him too much. They separated with a wet _pop, _Hiccup following her about an inch as she pulled back. He pouted very briefly, and it nearly made her kiss him again. Their proximity and the heat radiating from him was causing her insides to stir, but her head was telling her very loudly, _not here, not now._

Reluctantly, she listened to it.

"You'd better go, or I don't think I'll be able to let you," she conceded.

Hiccup nodded. She suspected he was having the same line of thinking. "Yeah," he agreed promptly, an urgency in his voice. He turned his head, finding Toothless, "Hey, bud? C'mere, it's time to go."

Hiccup rubbed his thumbs over Astrid's, sucking in a breath and then dropping her hands as if it were a difficult decision to do so. It probably was. Toothless padded up to his side and nudged him, as if understanding that time was of the essence.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he said.

"And I'll be here, kicking so much ass that the tribe decides to make me the permanent Chief," Astrid answered, silently delighting as Hiccup snickered in response.

"I love you," he said as he climbed into the saddle, his foot attaching to the catch with a _click._

Astrid met his green, green eyes and smiled warmly, reciprocating. "I love you too. Be careful,"

"When am I not?" Hiccup quipped, and Astrid threw him one of her signature glares. _Really? _her eyes said to him, and he instantly walked it back, "Okay, yeah, I'm usually not. But this time I will be," he promised. Toothless spread his bat-like wings, ready to fly. "Alright, bud, let's go!" Hiccup said, and Toothless immediately bolted forward, diving off the edge of the cliff. Rider and dragon disappeared from sight for an instant before lifting back up into the sky, the Night Fury's wings spread wide. Toothless beat his wings once, twice, thrusting higher into the air, and within seconds, they were off, challenging the swiftly appearing stars in a race across the sky.

"Alright, Stormfly," Astrid said as she watched them go. She turned to climb into her Nadder's saddle, situating herself and ignoring the cold that Hiccup's departure had left behind. As she rested in the saddle, she took another look at the plans for the mufflers Hiccup had drawn up. She rolled up the parchment and clenched it in one fist, closing her other hand around one of the handlebars on the saddle. "Let's head back."

* * *

_**[1] – Cami's dragon is shamelessly named for Edward Thatch, more famously known as Blackbeard. Once that idea occurred to me, there was no way I couldn't go through with it.**_

_**[2] – The mufflers I describe are a concept inspired by Becoming Lífþrasir, but instead of being used to protect the dragons from noise (which I suppose they could also do), their primary purpose is to muffle the sound of the Alpha's roar, which Hiccup thinks might help dull its influence on their dragons. It's not going to be a perfect solution, and other stuff will go into the final battle to help prevent the Alpha from taking all the dragons, but it's a start that the others can work on while Hiccup goes to find Valka.**_

* * *

**Thanks for reading. There will be a few more endnotes here and there as we dig into the final arc of the story that will act as supplementary information as I bring in more characters from the books and TV shows.**

**Next time on _Ghosts: _Deep in the north, mother and son try to mend the bridge between them.**


	18. Secrets of the Ice Cave

_**18\. Secrets of the Ice Cave**_

Hiccup knew that he would pass by the island. His mother's mountain was far to the northeast, and Berk was unfortunately in his path. It probably would've been smarter to take a detour and avoid the island in the interest of safety, but he couldn't help himself. He needed to see his home. Still, he hadn't expected the state of the village to be what it was.

The island had become a full-fledged military encampment. Even from high in the night sky, he could see that many houses had been pillaged. Rooftops and buildings had been stripped for materials, and the village was packed with bright cooking fires. The harbor was overflowing with ships, each of them belonging to Drago and his army. Near the forest, a line of jagged spikes of ice carved into a hill, tearing into the wall of an unfortunate house (though not enough to destroy it). All over, dragons perched where they could in the ransacked village, clad in iron and keeping their distance from the soldiers. It was a bizarre sight, considering that the dragons could've easily taken care of Drago's men and escaped. But still, they stayed put, as if frozen to their perches.

Perhaps they _were_ frozen to their perches, actually, though not of their own wills. Bordered by a ring of ships in the center of the harbor was a great spray of bubbles, the tell of the Alpha's presence beneath the waves. Hiccup could only imagine what it was like, being controlled like a puppet and forced to do things one didn't want to do. What kinds of lives might those poor dragons be living, had Drago and the Alpha not taken them? Would they fly free in the sky, like they deserved? Or would they be peaceful citizens of one of the Viking islands, perhaps even Berk?

Toothless hummed, beating his wings once to add a little more thrust. Hiccup read the dragon's body language like a book—the Night Fury did not like being here. The stench of the Alpha coated the island, the sensation of its presence suffocating even Toothless.

"I know, bud," Hiccup said, placing a gentle hand to the side of the dragon's head. Toothless leaned into his touch just a bit, keeping his course steady. The wind whistled around them and they sped forward, passing over the island and starting to leave it behind.

Against his better judgment, Hiccup looked over his shoulder again. He felt the pull, longing to just go home. For the first time in hours, his heart sank. He hoped so fiercely that he was wrong, but every sign he had told him that his father was dead. He still wouldn't mourn Stoick, and he would continue to hold out hope that the Chief of Berk was still alive and drawing breath, but the strain of such an unlikely hope was already beginning to weigh down on Hiccup's shoulders.

He really needed to find his mom.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Toothless," he added, as if to reassure himself rather than the dragon. He'd let his father down. He wouldn't let his best friend down, too.

Toothless answered with only an exhale, and they kept on flying through the night, wishing that they had been sensible enough to have stayed home in the first place.

* * *

The sun was just cresting over the horizon when he saw the mountain. It rose from the water like a pillar, its shadow cresting over the waves to the west. The small island surrounding it was almost barren, populated by smaller crags and plateaus. The island had no discernable entry point from the water, its edges tapering off from a great height and sinking straight down into the surf. It was solely accessible by dragon.

Hiccup's trained eye spotted flashes of scales as they closed in. The mountain was riddled with caves, their openings dotting the rocky slopes and connected by dozens of unseen tunnels. It was the perfect home for a dragon flock.

"Take us in, bud," Hiccup said, and Toothless angled his body toward one of the caves, extending his wings to slow so that he wouldn't barrel into the dark tunnel and smack against any unseen turns. The Night Fury's entrance startled a few nearby dragons, and Toothless released a faint, guttural roar, winding through the twists and turns in the tunnel with practiced efficiency.

In moments, they emerged into a great chamber, the same one that they'd been brought to when Valka had first captured them. Though the room had been filled with dragons on their first visit, this time there were none. Toothless hovered, keeping himself in the air by constantly beating his wings as he examined the empty chamber.

"Mom?" Hiccup called, but no answer came. He repeated himself, raising his voice a little. "Mom?"

Nothing. Toothless' head snapped to the right, a faint draconic cry reaching his finely tuned ears. In the darkness, the dragon recognized the opening of another tunnel, the cries echoing through from wherever the other end was.

"Whatcha hearing, bud?" Hiccup asked. Toothless snorted, flicking his head toward the tunnel. "Well, go ahead, I'm just following you," Hiccup half-quipped, and Toothless immediately darted toward the next tunnel, winding through it for several seconds, spotting every twist ahead of time and zooming seamlessly through.

"How deep does this tunnel go?" Hiccup muttered. Up ahead, he spotted the opening of the cavern, illuminated by a strange, ethereal blue-green glow. "You see that, Toothless?" he called, and the Night Fury snapped in response, focusing and then blazing through the exit into the next room.

What they saw nearly blew Hiccup's mind. Deep inside the mountain was one of the liveliest places that Hiccup had ever seen. A dome of ice enclosed the massive chamber, with light pouring in through openings that must've been carved out by the resident dragons. The light that managed to come through refracted off of the walls, filling the room with an appreciable glow. In the center of everything was a pale gemstone that soaked in the light like a hunk of obsidian, lateral spikes of ice forming a sort of crown at its base. All around it, lush grass covered the ground and the rocks that protruded from the ground were coated with lichens and moss, the little ecosystem kept thriving by the visible rushing hot springs cropping up in a few places.

And all around the chamber, dragons flew.

Toothless fell into stride with some of them, circling the chamber and looking around in awe. Hiccup mirrored his dragon, mouth agape as he examined the nest hidden within a mountain. Dragons of every shape and every size fluttered about, blissfully unconcerned by the newcomer Night Fury and the human on its back. Some dragons remained on the ground, bathing in the soothing hot springs, and others still perched on crags of ice and rock jutting out of the walls.

Hiccup let out a whoop of laughter, amazed. "This is incredible," he said, speaking more or less to Toothless, "How didn't we see this before? How… any of this?" Toothless answered with an ambiguous snap of his teeth, enraptured as well by the sight of the thriving dragon nest. Valka had been rescuing them and giving them their dream home.

After making a few laps of the cavern, Toothless drifted down to a hill isolated from the rest of the dragons, situated on the outskirts of the ice-encased room. As soon as the Night Fury landed, Hiccup was swinging out of the saddle, nearly tripping over himself as he eagerly ran a few steps forward to examine the stunning, hidden ecosystem they'd just stumbled upon.

He stood there, marveling, until a voice trailed down at them from above.

"_Hiccup?"_

Hiccup looked up. The voice was unmistakable. Hanging from a stalactite protruding from the ceiling was a large Stormcutter and its rider. Valka's mask was off, hidden somewhere out of sight, and she looked down on her son from above with a quivering expression somewhere between a frown and a smile. Like she didn't know what to feel.

Awestruck, Hiccup gestured to the nest buzzing with life and called back up to her. "This is where you've been for twenty years?"

Valka's conflicted expression persisted, visibly unsure if her son who had so unexpectedly appeared would blow up at her if she confirmed his question. It would prove the Stoick in him, at least.

With all of the caution in the world, she nodded. Hiccup averted his gaze, looking back out at the nest. "It's amazing," he breathed, "All of this underneath a mountain? How is it even possible?"

Valka blinked, confusion coloring her face. "You're not upset?"

Hiccup's throat dried up. He tilted his head up to look back at Valka, feeling just as conflicted as he probably looked. "I…" he started, and then he swallowed, running a nervous hand through his auburn locks and thinking over what he would say. "I came to talk," he settled for saying, "Will you come down?"

Cloudjumper coiled his flexible neck, eyeing Valka with a curious, golden stare. The woman met her giant friend's eyes, and then glanced at her son and his own dragon. Carefully, she nodded, and latched onto one of Cloudjumper's claws with the end of her staff. Cloudjumper got the message and lowered her down, his body so long that he could extend from the edge of the stalactite almost to the floor. Valka let go and fell the last few feet, landing with impressive grace, and the Stormcutter followed her lead, claws clicking as they scraped off of the stalactite and dug into the grass interwoven with the rocks.

Acting on impulse, Hiccup surged forward and hugged her. Valka sucked in a breath and froze up, stunned. Her grip on her staff became painfully tight, her free arm likewise stiff. Hiccup squeezed her for all of a few seconds before suddenly retracting, taking two steps back to put some distance between the two of them.

"Sorry. I just… think I needed to get that out of my system," Hiccup coughed, avoiding Valka's gaze entirely.

"It's alright," Valka squeaked, equally as flustered, "I don't understand. I thought you didn't want to see me. That you wanted me to leave."

"I did," Hiccup answered bluntly. He softened, as if he realized just how brusquely he'd said that and amended his statement. "I acted irrationally. I see that now. Can…" he dipped his head and sucked on his teeth, "Can we go somewhere and just… talk?"

For the first time in forever, Hiccup saw Valka smile. The dragon woman was beaming, the prospect of a genuine conversation with her long-lost son washing away her discomfort. "I'd like that," she said. She gestured to Cloudjumper, motioning to somewhere else in the ice-covered cave. "Follow us."

Valka lifted onto Cloudjumper's back, and with a click of her tongue, the pair left the ground. Hiccup wasted no time, climbing into Toothless' saddle. The Night Fury launched off of the grass, flapping his great black wings to catch up to the four-winged dragon leading the way. Hiccup watched his mother's form atop the dragon's back, noting how she stood on two feet without concern. He'd been riding Toothless for five years, and never once did he dare to _stand_ on the dragon's back. He suspected that there were a lot of things she could teach him, what with 20 years of experience under her belt.

He took one more look at the nest as Cloudjumper slipped through a tunnel, and he thought he could at least slightly understand why his mother had stayed here for so long.

* * *

Hiccup was standing on the balcony when the footsteps reached his ears. It was a natural rock formation, an organic window jutting out from the wall and allowing one to look out over the entirety of the nest. Valka had made it her home, filling the cave with a bed and makeshift furniture and drinkware. A few small caves connected to the chamber by various tunnels served as additional "rooms". She had lived a life of minimal comfort, yet he suspected she had never wanted for anything in this place.

So it was that he was staring out at the nest, examining the ice that so plentifully covered the underbelly of the mountain for what must've been the hundredth time. Valka walked up behind him, and he turned his head to look over his shoulder. She had disappeared upon arriving in the cave-home, and he saw now that it had been to change out of her armor. She wore a faded yellow dress that covered her body completely, her russet hair pulled back in a ponytail behind her narrow head and bearing thin streaks of grey. In her hands was an earthen jug. Valka stepped over to a narrow stalactite of ice that a narrow stream of water was trickling down from. Quietly, she raised the jug beneath the ice so that the clear, cold liquid dribbled inside the jug. That must've been how she got her water.

Hiccup eyed the stalactite. It held that same blue-green glow, just a little different from the typical ice that he'd seen scuttling across the ocean all his life. He knew, consciously, that he'd seen its like before, recently and in only one other place.

Or rather, from one kind of animal.

"It's the same ice as the Bewilderbeast's," Hiccup said. Valka stopped, tugging the jug away from the ice melt so that the water dripped over the edge and wet the clay exterior. She paused, thinking.

"Yes, it is," she said simply.

"Is there one here?" Hiccup pressed, "Is there an Alpha here that can contest Drago's?" Part of him welled up with rage as his mind raced. Had she kept this from him, knowing that their enemy could control all of their dragons unopposed with his own Alpha? How could she have done this? If there was an Alpha in this nest, they didn't even need Toothless and Cloudjumper to hold off the Alpha's control!

But still, the brighter part of him reasoned that something else must've been the case. Keeping a secret like that should've been beneath her, right? She'd freely told him about Drago's Alpha, why wouldn't she tell him about one living in her mountain?

Fortunately, Valka confirmed that, and Hiccup relaxed, if only a little. "No," Valka replied, "One used to live here, that much I'm sure of, but it left this place behind a long time ago. Then my best guess is that a group of Whispering Deaths moved in, considering the tunnels. They likewise moved out long before I showed up. The mountain's ecosystem has continued to thrive in the Alpha's absence, so it's made a perfect nest for wild dragons for at least as long as I've been here."

Hiccup bit back a curse, now back to square one. He turned to look at the nest again, where dragons were still fluttering around without a care in the world. He understood why she'd been so secretive and so careful to avoid ever being tracked. If Drago ever found this place, he'd take every dragon present with ease, and upon seeing the ice, would probably tear the island apart seeking an Alpha that could challenge his. He'd desecrate this place and ruin it beyond repair. The mountain was a bastion of hope, of safety, and that couldn't be jeopardized.

"You've been rescuing them. Keeping as many safe from Drago as you could," Hiccup said, "I fucked that up by trying to sue for peace with him."

Valka turned around at that, holding the water jug in her hands close to her chest. The older woman shook her head, "Our war would've found its way to you and Berk eventually. If I hadn't been so cowardly, so happy to forget that I had a husband and son mourning me, maybe I would've found you first and been able to protect you from that monster. I made so many mistakes, Hiccup—"

"I made worse ones," Hiccup interrupted, "I shouldn't have accused you of being responsible for Dad. You were trying to protect the dragons, and I convinced myself that you couldn't do that and try to protect our people at the same time. I can't imagine how it must've felt, watching what happened to Dad."

Valka's eyes watered and she nodded, looking away from him. She carefully reached out to touch Hiccup's elbow, guiding him away from the balcony and towards the center of her cave, where a fire was burning in a pit between two chairs. Toothless napped by the blaze, tuckered out by the long flight from Bog. Cloudjumper remained still as a statue nearby, keeping a silent watch. The fire crackled and popped as Valka sat down in her chair, a big, comfy seat furnished with brown fur. She set the jug of water down on the stony floor and lifted her narrow arms up to the armrests.

Valka's eyes locked on the fire, its glow illuminating the visible half of her face from Hiccup's spot a few feet away. "When I was still living with your father, I wasn't the most popular person on Berk. We saw the dragons differently, he and I. We argued every day about them. I begged him to find ways to stop the fighting, but he never listened. He begged me in turn to stop undermining him by advocating for the dragons, and I never listened as well. I believed too strongly that peace was possible. Even as I watched Berkians slaughter dragons by the hundreds, year after year, I still believed.

"It put a strain on us. I loved your father, make no mistake. He was the moon in my darkest nights. But we may as well have been on opposite sides of the war. When you were born, things began to brighten again. Stoick was so gentle with you, even gentler than he was with me. But all too often, I watched that violent side of him come out. When night fell and the bells rang, he ran outside with his axe or his sword, screaming and maiming and killing. I tried to shoo dragons off where I could when the raids happened, and that didn't escape the notice of the townsfolk. He could never stop the people from whispering about me behind my back. I was surely the most absurd Chieftess in the history of Berk. To them, the only thing I was missing was an actual dragon pet—which, of course, would eventually change…"

Valka cast a glance at Cloudjumper. The large dragon grunted, its throat inflating with the sound as the fire reflected off of its soft eyes.

"How did you meet him?" Hiccup asked, stepping over to the empty chair across from the fire. Valka smiled as he sat, and the comfortable fur lining on the chair validated the decision as a good one. Hiccup sighed with relief at the texture, sinking into the cushion. Wherever she had found this chair, he needed to go there.

"It all happened so fast," she said, recalling that fateful night. "It was just another raid… this time, your father made me stay inside, instructing me to protect you. You were only a few months old. I was angry at him for ordering me around, but I ended up relenting. At least staying inside would spare me from witnessing the violence in the town. You hadn't made any noise yet, so I suspected you were still sleeping. Still, I kept my ears out for your cries, ready to rush upstairs and cradle you if the attack scared you."

"I wonder what might've happened if I'd gone outside after all that night. I don't know if I would've been in the area when a dragon broke into our house. It tore through the roof, right into your room. So, I ran to grab a sword and headed upstairs, ready to protect you even if it meant betraying my values. That was when I saw him, sitting there at your cradle and _playing _with you." Valka was watching Cloudjumper intently, and it drew Hiccup's attention to the dragon. He certainly couldn't remember that happening.

"I nearly dropped my sword at the sight. The townsfolk said lots of things about me, but the most common bit was that I had no proof of my claims that dragons weren't malicious. That night, they were all wrong… the sounds of the raid seemed to disappear as I watched this 'vicious' beast play with my baby boy. Cloudjumper noticed I was there and grew defensive, accidentally cutting your chin with his claw when he darted away. You started to cry, and I almost raised my sword to attack, but then I got a look at his eyes. It was like Cloudjumper knew I didn't have it in me to hurt him. He watched me with this look, dangerously curious, and he sniffed and smelled and made this strange clucking noise at me. Suddenly, I had proof of everything that I believed. This wasn't a mindless, vicious beast standing before me, but an intelligent, gentle creature."

Hiccup listened closely, wondering when the story was going to change from an almost happy one to the one where his mother vanished from his life. Valka seemed to read his mind, answering his unspoken questions with a somber tone.

"That lasted up until your father came running in. He must've seen Cloudjumper bursting inside and rushed over to protect us. Cloudjumper dove out of the way, breathing fire as Stoick charged at him, and suddenly your whole room was in flames. Stoick yelled at me to hold on as he grabbed for you, screaming and wailing, and I just knew that Cloudjumper was going to attack again. I grabbed onto him, tugging him away and telling him no, and he looked at me again in this way that to this day I haven't been able to decipher. Before I knew it, he'd grabbed me in his claws and taken to the air, away from you and your father. I didn't want to go. I thought surely that I'd been wrong and that Cloudjumper was taking me back to his nest to eat me."

"But that wasn't what happened," Hiccup interrupted. Valka flashed an almost wistful smile.

"No, it wasn't. He'd never meant to hurt me, not even a little bit. He just felt that I belonged somewhere else. I was stuck here for so long. The other dragons didn't trust me in the slightest, but Cloudjumper did. I spent months watching him order them around, the nest's very own dragon chieftain. He kept his distance from me for a while, even so. But eventually, I wore him down, and he showed me a world I never could've imagined," Valka recalled. She frowned, knowing which part of the story came next, "and then I made a decision that would change my life forever. That would change _your _life forever."

Hiccup gulped, knowing where she was going with this as well. Instead of launching into the details, Valka leaned forward and looked directly in his eyes, begging for some kind of forgiveness. "Hiccup, you deserve to know that I didn't do what I did because I didn't love you or because I wished I'd never had you. I chose to stay with Cloudjumper and the others because I no longer believed that I could succeed in changing Berk. They all thought I was dead, and reasonably so, and after years of trying I had gained no ground in bringing an end to the war. I replayed that night over and over again in my head, and I knew what would come of it if I tried to go back to Berk. Your father's account was all that they would need. I knew he'd be convinced that Cloudjumper had tried to kill you and I, that he had burst into our house with the sole intention of murder and mayhem. He'd never believe that Cloudjumper had nearly burned the house down in self-defense, that he'd been so gentle with us only seconds before."

"So you decided to stay away. Forever," Hiccup said, the cracks in his mental armor starting to show. Whatever he'd been preparing himself for on his way over here, it hadn't been this.

Valka nodded sadly. "I did. I thought you would be better off without your crazy dragon-loving mother. Your father would raise you to be the next great dragon slayer. I couldn't bear that, but I also knew that I couldn't steal you away from him, either. He couldn't lose both of us, and the upbringing he'd be able to give you was a better one that I could ever hope to offer. Even if I disagreed with what you would surely become, I wanted the best for you, and just like I believed that dragons were good, gentle creatures, I felt that you would prosper on Berk, without two parents pulling you in opposite directions.

"And I am so, so sorry. I was selfish, I see that now. I've known it since Drago made that dragon set your father on fire," Valka winced, "Our war was going to find you one way or another someday, but if I had just come back to Berk, maybe I could've protected you all from it. Maybe I could've protected your father. But I kept myself from doing so, because I thought that people were not capable of change, and that I was simply different from everyone else and would never fit in on Berk. So, I betrayed you and your father both in order to keep my secret, free life to myself. I am a selfish, despicable woman for it."

"Mom—" Hiccup started, but she cut him off.

"I never considered what removing myself from your life would do to you, what it would do to your father. Even when I had the chance to reunite with him, I declined to, because I feared that in doing so I would rip open a world of pain within him. My actions were unfounded and wrong. I should've been there. I should've chosen my son over dragons, and though I didn't do the opposite because I hated you, it doesn't excuse what I did. I deprived you of a mother."

Valka hung her head, a few tears leaking from her eyes and splattering onto the lower half of her dress. Hiccup was frozen to his seat, a flood of emotions roiling through him. He wanted to feel anger but staved that coercion off. He'd suffered too much rage in recent days, and it just wasn't going to get him anywhere anymore.

Instead, he tried to be understanding. His parents were complicated, that much was clear. He supposed he was complicated, too.

"It wasn't that much different for a while," Hiccup said. Valka looked up, bleary-eyed and not expecting to talk about himself, "Dad took good care of me when I was little… always made sure I had enough to eat, toys to play with, and friends. I think he saw me as the last little part of you still in his life. But he knew how sad I was to not have a mom when the other kids like Snotlout and Astrid all did. I think he chose to see me as the one to avenge you. The dragon raids were getting worse and eventually everything would fall to me. So, he made sure to take care of me."

"But then when the other kids all grew up and got bigger and I didn't, I think he lost sight of that. Instead he thought that I couldn't protect myself, so he had to be responsible for that along with the rest of the village. That was when we started to grow apart. He wasn't a _bad _dad, he just… _we _didn't interact much. I knew he was disappointed in me so I just avoided talking to him so I wouldn't disappoint him any more than I already had just by being me."

Valka looked hurt. It was obvious that she was blaming herself for the way his life had played out. Perhaps she truly was to blame, but that wasn't what Hiccup wanted to emphasize. She had told him how she had met Cloudjumper, and he wanted to reciprocate with his own story, to secure the first stretch of common ground they'd shared in the few whirlwind days they'd been back in one another's lives.

"So instead I acted. I tried to kill any dragon that came close to me, and when it became obvious that I wasn't big enough or strong enough to do that, I started to build. I spent my spare time coming up with these ridiculous contraptions that would help me fight dragons. My favorite one was this thing that would throw a bola at high speed and wrap around a dragon to ground it. Dad hated it, and I'm sure Gobber did, too, so I kept doing it. I figured things would change eventually, if I just worked hard enough."

Hiccup grinned, remembering the fateful day that everything _had _changed, but not the one where Toothless had entered his life. "I guess Dad had had enough of my foolishness and decided that I was suddenly a man. He went to Ingvar and Edna Hofferson and arranged a contract for me to marry Astrid." That caught Valka's attention. She watched him, suspended between her sorrow and some unplaceable—but ideally positive—emotion. "She whipped me into shape for the most part, but I still invented behind her back in my spare time. I ended up using the bola thrower to shoot Toothless down."

The Night Fury looked up at the mention of his name. Sneaky dragon, he'd been listening in the whole time.

"That's how his tailfin ended up missing. And, well, the rest is history, as they say," Hiccup concluded with another grin. "What I'm trying to say is, yeah, it sucked not having you around. And it hurts to find out you've been here for twenty years." He affixed his mother with a steady, understanding eye, finally seeing clearly after spending so much time seeing red at the mere thought of her, "But I've come to realize that everything you did, all of your mistakes and your reasons for them… they're all in the past and they just don't matter anymore. What does matter is how we go forward now that I have you again."

Valka flinched, taken aback. But color quickly flushed across her face and she smiled, moved. "I don't deserve this," she insisted, if only to oppose her son just a little bit.

Hiccup shrugged. "Sure, you do. You're my mom." He smiled, and then she smiled harder. It all suddenly felt very awkward, like an elder's sappy saga. So, Hiccup drummed his fingers on his knees and changed the subject, "Okay. I was thinking about going to check out one of those hot springs, if the dragons aren't too territorial. It's been a little longer than usual since I've had a bath and I really don't love that."

Hiccup surged out of his seat and Toothless rose to meet him, bumbling over around the back of Valka's chair. The dragon woman's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "You're staying?"

Hiccup froze, his back half-turned to Valka by now. He twirled around to face her, his shoulders rising with anxiety. "Oh, yeah, I guess I need to tell you about that. I… I also came to bring you back. We, uh… we need you." The fact that his nerves were getting the better of him here was downright absurd. He'd just poured his heart out and spilled his whole (condensed) life story without breaking a sweat, and he felt uncomfortable asking his mother to come back with him and fight for Berk. He supposed it was a big ask, but… still. "We're going to retake Berk. And I don't think I can do it without you. I-I realize I'm asking a lot and you just left your dragons, but we really need your help—"

"We'll leave in the morning," Valka interrupted. Hiccup stopped mid-speech, his mouth hanging open in the middle of formulating his next word.

"O—oh, okay," he stammered. "Um, fantastic. We'll do that. C'mon, bud," Toothless lumbered over and Hiccup swung into the saddle, loosely connecting his prosthetic to the pedal and guiding Toothless into a jump off the edge of the balcony. The black dragon spread his wings and glided toward one of the bursting hot springs, a nice, hot bath on both of their minds.

Valka watched them go and then stood out of her chair. It was still early, about time for a late breakfast. Today, she was feeling rather inspired to make something decent to eat. And this time, she was going to really try her best to _not _burn the food.

* * *

Hiccup startled awake, wondering in a panic for a moment where he was. It wasn't a new sensation this past week or so, with all but one night of rest spent away from his own bed. He'd spent some of these last several nights in his childhood bed, one on a deserted island, one or two on Toothless' back, and another on the floor of a cell on a military ship. Not his finest week.

The memories came rushing back as he felt for purchase on the rocky floor. He remembered now. He'd unrolled a sleeping mat on the cave floor next to Toothless, choosing a cave near the main room as his sanctuary for the night. Toothless was snoring next to him, radiating heat as his muscular chest rose and fell with his breaths.

He was sweating, having woken from a nightmare. He'd been spared the terrors of sleep the previous two nights, but now they had caught up to haunt him in the night. He'd found himself tortured by visions of his father, either bleeding or burned or maimed in all manner of horrific ways. He'd even been subjected to the image of Toothless losing control of himself under the Alpha's influence, turning on him with paper-thin pupils and a taste for blood.

Hiccup tugged his blanket off of his body and curled around, sitting up on the edge of the mat. Toothless stirred from the sudden movement and lifted his head, a soft croon coming from the sleepy dragon's throat as he blinked lazily.

"Morning, bud," Hiccup whispered sarcastically. Toothless snorted, probably rolling his eyes. It was too dark in the room for Hiccup to tell. "Interested in going for a walk?" Toothless made his way slowly to his feet, so Hiccup moved to stand as well. He attached his prosthetic easily and stood up, wobbling for a moment as he found his balance in the dark room.

"A little light, Toothless?" he whispered, so Toothless opened his mouth and ignited a dim glow of flame in the back of his throat, casting a faint purple glow that served to light the path in front of Hiccup. He shuffled across the room, trying to take care to not cause a racket with his steps. The rock floor betrayed his metal prosthetic, a light scraping sound coming with each stride forward. He probably could've just ridden on Toothless' back and left the prosthetic behind completely, but for whatever reason he really wanted to just _walk._

Sometimes he missed his leg. Not so often that it might make him seem pathetic, but there was a feeling of having weight in one's step that a prosthetic just could never simulate. He'd made several advancements to his peg leg over the years, most admirably the different variants for flying and walking that he could rotate out at will. But the false leg would never replace the natural, intangible sensation of having a whole foot.

So, on he went, entering the open chamber that had served as his mother's home for so many years. Toothless remained close as Hiccup changed course and cut through the tunnels leading out of the room that Valka had disappeared down when she'd turned in for the night. It was dark and he didn't really know where he was going, so he had Toothless lead the way, eventually finding an exit leading to the outside.

The opening of the cave left him standing on a wide ledge, looking out at the moonlit island. The moon was nearly half-full, and a cold wind was blowing in from the north. That likely meant the spring rains would hit soon. The storms that came from the changing weather had a reputation for being torrential on Berk, ice-cold and dangerous if the rain shifted into a thunderstorm.

Still, it was comforting. It was a nice contrast to the intense warmth permeating the inside of the mountain. How an ecosystem of this kind had sprouted beneath sheets of rock and maintained itself was beyond Hiccup. The hot springs must've been the opening of subterranean channels of hot water, maybe of volcanic origin? The archipelago and surrounding lands that Hiccup been able to explore did possess their fair share of volcanoes.

Without his consent, his mind wandered back to thoughts of his father. More than anything, he wanted to stop thinking about Stoick. It was growing more and more suffocating and knowing that his father was likely dead wasn't helping that at all. Because until he saw a body, he couldn't fully convince himself that Stoick the Vast was gone forever. Berk had the best healers on the archipelago, and a few had been unfortunate enough to be left behind in the retreat. But he still didn't _know,_ and the guilt that came from that was indescribable.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Hiccup said to the wind. "I'm sorry for screwing things up so royally. Par for the course for me, right? I should've clung to Mom after the battle, not chased her away. I'm lucky that she seems to have taken me back into her good graces. I also should've made sure you knew she was alive before everything went down. She forbade me from doing so, but maybe I should've defied her anyway.

"If you're really dead, and you never got to see her at least one more time… well, I would find that cruel if it were me and Astrid instead of you and Mom. I know I would've wanted to know if my wife was still alive." Hiccup hung his head, remorse cracking across his face, "I'm sorry that I'm not the Chief that you want me to be. And I guess I'm not the peacekeeper that I thought I was. I don't… know what I am anymore… other than a failure."

He only barely saw Toothless' head turn, the dragon hearing the footsteps before the voice ever echoed down the tunnel.

"_Hiccup?" _Valka called softly, her voice carrying through the cavern. Hiccup looked over his shoulder, his eyes unable to penetrate the darkness and see her.

"Out here," he replied carefully. Footsteps crunched on the ground in the tunnel and in seconds Valka poked her head out of the cavern, her russet hair unbound. Her expression was calm, not implying that she'd heard anything he'd said just now.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he said, but Valka shrugged nonchalantly.

"Sound travels rather well here. You aren't as quiet as you might think with that metal leg."

Hiccup hung his head in embarrassment. "Astrid says the same thing," he joked half-heartedly.

"I had Cloudjumper track the scent after the fact. His nose is hardly the greatest, but he knows these caves like the back of his paw," Valka furthered. "What are you doing out here?"

Hiccup turned his gaze to the horizon, invisible in the pitch-black night and decorated by only the faintest collection of northern stars. "Thinking about Dad," he answered, "I think he might be alive, but I don't want to get my hopes up. Drago imprisoned me and Astrid instead of killing us, part of me thinks he could've done the same with Dad. But then the other part of me says he wouldn't risk making that kind of mistake again. No matter what I do, I still feel guilty. I can walk around and puff out my chest and suck it up for the rest of Berk, but in the end, I've let him down more than I ever did when I was a kid."

Valka went silent at that, slightly chewing on her lip and deep in thought.

"That's all I've really done in my life, for the most part. Let him down and undermined him and just been an overall disappointment. I never thought my screwups would put his life on the line, though, and I keep trying to quit thinking about it, but I can't, and—"

Valka's hand snatched his, tightening so that his tremoring ceased completely, and he turned his head to her. Mother and son locked eyes—Valka's bore into his soul in that wordless, motherly way that said _stop. _She wasn't going to hear any of him putting himself down. The longer their eye contact lasted, the sadder she looked, as if just looking at Hiccup in this state left her in anguish.

She looked down at their joined hands, remembering how they'd been when he was a baby—the last time she'd really known him. His hands had been so little then, so soft and innocent. "You came early into this world, you know. Such a wee thing, frail and struggling to even breathe. We were too afraid to name you, in case we lost you. The midwives worked day and night with you, but nothing seemed to be working. I feared that you wouldn't make it. My only baby, taken from me," Valka recalled.

She looked to the stars, as if she could see Stoick in the night sky, "But your father never doubted you for a second. He loved you from the instant he saw you, and he said over and over again that you'd pull through, that you'd prove yourself to be strong. And he was right."

Valka raised her other hand to cup Hiccup's cheek, eyes watering as she beamed. "That was how we got your name. Not to mock you or label you because you were small, but to remind us who you were. The little hiccup that overcame all the odds and proved himself to be a fighter, stronger than anyone gave him credit for. Nothing is strong enough to beat you, son. You have the heart of a chief, and the soul of a dragon. A fusion of the two greatest things in our world, and the best thing your father or I ever did. If Stoick is gone from this world, he'd want you to know that. And if he isn't, well, I think he'd still want you to know that."

Hiccup had to drop his head to hide the surge of emotion bursting out of him. His mother's right hand still rested on his cheek, and her left was tightly clenched in his. He squeezed her hand, as if letting go was unthinkable and would sever this moment of connection they were having.

"He never told me that I looked like you," he replied, "I used to wonder sometimes if I was even his kid. I couldn't have been more different from him. But all these years I was just taking after you." Hiccup started nodding, trying and failing to bite back a wince, and then a sob, "I'm sorry for everything. I'm so sorry."

Valka moved her right hand from his cheek to his back, yanking Hiccup into her and snaring him in a hug. He shook against her as she held him. This was the heart-to-heart that had been missing from their earlier conversation from the morning. There had been the apology, and the understanding, but this was where the dam really broke, and everything came rushing out at once, a raging flood of emotions and revelations and, deep within that twenty-year-long torrent of longing, a little bit of healing.

"You've nothing to apologize for, my sweet boy. Nothing," Valka said softly. She peeled back from the hug, holding her hands on his shoulders. "I'm the one who should be sorry. And I am. We start over?"

Hiccup nodded, sucking in a breath through his nose and showing just how congested he was. His nose wrinkled in disgust at the sensation. Even in the dark, his green eyes seemed to glow. "Yeah," he heaved, "Yeah, I'd love that."

Valka smiled and patted his right shoulder with her hand. "I'm glad," she replied, and dropped her hands to her sides. She gestured to the tunnel leading back into the mountain, "Now come back inside. You need your sleep more than I."

Hiccup didn't hesitate to follow. Toothless and Cloudjumper guided them back through the cavern and into the mountain that had become a home. Valka peeled off upon reaching her room and bid her son goodnight with one last hug, and from there Hiccup and Toothless made their way back to where they'd been sleeping.

Upon reaching the room, Toothless collapsed next to the mat that had served as Hiccup's mattress. Hiccup followed suit, curling up on the mat and tugging the thick sleeping fur he'd used as his blanket over his body. He shuddered as his shivering body soaked up the warmth under the fur, and Toothless exhaled loudly as he settled in.

"G'night, bud," Hiccup said. Toothless snorted, a wave of heat rolling off of the dragon. Hiccup chuckled under his breath and gently shut his eyes.

For the first time in a while, he enjoyed a peaceful, dreamless sleep.


	19. Reunions

**So, as has been stated previously, RTTE did not occur in this timeline. However, some of the major events that occurred over the course of that show have still come to pass, just in different ways.**

**This includes Dagur's reformation for example, but not the search for the King of Dragons. Also, Hiccup recognizes that Eret's crew are dragon trappers back in Chapter 2. I don't have a concrete opinion on the Grimborn brothers ever appearing, but the gang has certainly clashed with hunters and trappers in the past. I'll likely never write something to definitively fill the gap, so any headcanon anyone might have is perfectly valid.**

* * *

_**19\. Reunions**_

"Wings, ho! Rider coming in hot!"

Astrid looked up from supervising a few of the men unloading a ship of supplies. A trader had just come in from the south, and she thanked all the gods for the merchant's timing. The man had been quite spooked by the unusual number of people and dragons on the island, but Bertha had been happy to buy his ignorance with a few extra dragon scales. The supplies he had brought in exchange would go a long way in feeding and housing the suddenly overpopulated Bog for the next few days.

Astrid looked up at the morning sky, recognizing the dragon with ease. She could never mistake the black-and-cream scales and the trio of barbed tails lagging behind the dragon's body, and because of that there was likewise no mistaking the dragon's rider.

It also helped that said rider was screaming to the high heavens.

The scorpion-like dragon landed with an audible _thud _on the edge of the town, and the red-haired rider leaped up to stand on the dragon's saddle, as if he were trying to get a better vantage point to see the village by.

"Where is he? Where is my brother!?" Dagur howled, raising his hands high above his head as if he had triumphed over some great enemy. "I'll bathe in the blood of the men who took Berk from him, I swear it!" His dragon clacked its pincers together, agreeing with its mildly deranged rider with a hearty yowl. The Triple Stryke and Dagur the Deranged were a curious story—the Berserker's previous dragon, a Gronckle named Shattermaster, had been crippled in a skirmish with dragon trappers and rendered unable to fly. Dagur had nearly died protecting the dragon, only for the Triple Stryke to come to his aid.

Sleuther, as Dagur had come to call him, was a fearsome fighter and had since become Dagur's primary fighting mount, possessing powerful flames and paralyzing toxins in each of his three tails. Dagur, to his immense credit, had in turn proven himself capable of loving two dragons like his own family. With Shattermaster, he showed a care that many had thought him incapable of feeling, and with Sleuther, he displayed that awe-inspiring, fearsome side that had given him his adult title. To say that Dagur had come into his own and made up for his wrongs was a fairly large understatement.

"Hiccup!" Dagur screeched, "Show yourself and give me this invader's name, so that I may destroy him for daring to attack our family!" The Bog women that had guided him in looked utterly repulsed, trying and failing to control the fanatical Berserker Chief.

"Dagur!" Astrid called, walking over with Stormfly at her side. She opened her mouth to answer him and explain that Hiccup wasn't back yet, but Dagur interjected the second he laid eyes on her.

"Astrid Haddock! Looking as beautiful as ever! Say, can you tell my brother I'm here? He seems to be ignoring me," Dagur dropped back into a seated position and his crazed smile shifted to a pout, looking utterly ridiculous in the process. His spiky red hair and full beard looked freshly cleaned—had he bathed in preparation or something?

Another dragon crashed into the island at Dagur's side, its scales a gleaming silver. The Razorwhip cried out and reared up, the young woman on its back holding the reins tight. Her hair was as black as the night and her skin a smooth fair tone. A few hours spent sitting beneath the archipelago sun had left her cheeks tinged with a faint red blush.

"Beard of Thor, Dagur, think you could slow down for one minute?" Heather snapped. Windshear, her Razorwhip, squawked at Stormfly, to which the Nadder trilled back excitedly.

"Apologies, sis, but I'm just so stoked! I haven't seen Hiccup since the Thing! Astrid here was just helping me look for him!" Dagur replied, adding in a demented laugh for good measure.

Heather looked down from her mount, noticing Astrid for the first time. She'd been too busy scolding her child of an older brother. Upon seeing her good friend, Heather's eyes lit up. Astrid would even go so far as to call Heather her best friend (Ruffnut didn't need to know that). "Astrid! How's the archipelago's finest warrior doing?" Heather asked, genuinely concerned.

"As well as I can, I guess." _Also, kind of pregnant._ "Hiccup is out at the moment. He went to… go track down an ally," Astrid said, guarding the identity of said ally at least for the time being. Dagur and Heather would have a multitude of questions already. She didn't have the headspace right now to handle even more of them if she revealed that this _ally_ was Hiccup's _dead mother._

Dagur straightened up, seemingly passing over the notion of Hiccup's absence without a care. "Well, then we must begin our battle plans without him and pray for his safe return! Rejoice, for I've brought the whole of the Berserker Air Armada in my wake!" Dagur howled with laughter and pointed to the sky. He and Heather had flown ahead of them—Heather more in the interest of keeping up with her brother than leaving her men behind—but there was a large force indeed flying in towards the island, all shapes and sizes of men and women riding on all shapes and sizes of dragons.

Heavy footsteps thundered from behind Astrid. Dagur and Heather looked past her, almost reverently, and Astrid looked over her shoulder to find Bertha heading their way, casting two narrowed eyes to the sky where hundreds of Berserkers were flying in with their dragons.

"Dagur! Did you truly need to bring your entire army to my island?" Bertha growled.

Dagur batted his eyelashes, completely missing the implication that he'd done anything wrong. "Why, of course, Bertha! Without the might of the Berserker armada, how can we hope to mobilize an army capable of reclaiming Berk?"

"We only needed you and a few others to fly here. The plan was to rendezvous with your forces later. We don't have the space on these islands to accommodate your men and their dragons combined."

Dagur scoffed in disbelief. "All of Berk certainly seems to be here," he replied petulantly, gesturing meekly to the abundance of people and dragons in the village.

"The Berkians are refugees, you hot-blooded dolt," Bertha snapped, "They have nowhere else to go."

Heather hissed under her breath at Dagur, _"I told you we shouldn't have rushed off." _Dagur hung his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"My apologies, Bertha. I meant no disrespect bringing my army with me," he relented. He seemed mildly disappointed that he needed to be apologizing at all.

Bertha lifted her hands to her waist, a mask of emotionless stone serving as her face. "I accept your apology, Dagur. I'd ask you to send your men back home and wait for further orders. If Drago Bludvist is on the hunt, he may well turn his sights on Berserk next. It would be best not to offer him easy pickings."

That stoked the flame in Dagur's heart again, spurring him into another wild bout. The young Chief practically raised his hackles as he flinched before launching to the defense of his people. "Easy pickings? On Berserk? _Never! _If this fool foreigner tries to attack _our _island, he'll find himself hanging from the neck off of a mast!"

Astrid quite liked that visual, horrid as it was. Heather clicked her tongue and Windshear plodded forward a step. "I'll give the word, brother. Scabfester can lead the others back home and stand in as Acting Chief for the time being."

Dagur gave a hasty nod. "Go," he consented.

"Come find us in the Great Hall after, Miss Heather," Bertha added. Heather brushed a lock of her black hair behind her ear and nodded, and with a simple command Windshear spread her wings and lifted off, flapping up to the aerial armada loitering above the village.

Dagur promptly dismounted from Sleuther, patting the Triple Stryke's hide with a calloused hand. "Tell me everything I need to know about this invader," the Berserker Chief urged. Bertha turned on her heel, waving for Dagur and Astrid to follow her.

"Come. There is much to tell, and little of it is good," Bertha replied. Astrid cast one last look at Dagur before falling into step behind the Bog Burglar Chieftess. Dagur mimicked her, sidling up beside her. Stormfly and Sleuther lagged behind, tutting at one another and socializing.

Bertha was dead silent on the walk to the Great Hall, so Dagur scratched his ever-present itch for conversation by talking to Astrid. He looked around the village, busy and overcrowded. "You said Hiccup went off searching for an ally?"

"Yes," Astrid said simply.

"Anyone I know?"

Astrid almost smiled. "I can guarantee that you don't." Oddly, Dagur grinned, probably picturing some celebrated warrior that would single-handedly turn the tide of battle against Drago. If only he knew. Which he probably would pretty soon, if she knew Valka at all. And she really didn't know the woman that well, but Astrid had a hard time believing that Valka would turn away her son asking for her help. It had been less than a day and she wasn't sure when Hiccup planned to be back. She hoped it was soon. She hoped he had actually made it to Valka's mountain and, Odin forbid, not been captured.

Dagur gave the village another once-over. He noticed the amount of Berkians with parts of their bodies bandaged and frowned. "I'm not sure what I was expecting to see, but it definitely had less bandages."

"Drago crushed us," Astrid replied, "We're lucky to have as many here as we do."

"How did a foreigner manage to rout a Viking army?"

Bertha interjected at that, looking over her large shoulder and scowling. Spittle flung off of her tongue as she spoke, reviling the very mention of Drago. "With dragons," she hissed.

"Dragons?" Dagur repeated, "Like, an _army _of dragons? …Why didn't _I _think of that?" the deranged chieftain laughed for a split-second, entertaining his delusional self in the process. Bertha glowered, quickly tipping the Berserker Chief off that his response was not appreciated, and he piped down, embarrassed.

"Yes, an army of dragons," Bertha drawled. They reached the Great Hall and she yanked the door open, silently bidding Astrid and Dagur to enter with a gesture. They followed, entering the torchlit hall. The grand table that had been placed in the center of the room two evenings ago was still present, the large map of the archipelago draped over it and the many figurines standing in for their militaries still meticulously arranged.

Dagur looked upon the display with glee. "Well, haven't you all been busy little Terrors! I find myself feeling rather jealous!"

Astrid and Dagur stood side by side at one end of the table as Bertha passed by and circled around to the other side, lazily dragging one finger across the parchment while Dagur admired the many figurines with gleaming eyes. The Berserker Chief seemed to be in his element inside a war room. Not for the first time, Astrid found herself glad he was their ally.

Behind them, the doors to the Great Hall opened and Heather came rushing in, her boots slapping against the floor. Windshear was no longer with her, probably left outside to play with Stormfly and Sleuther. The young woman's black hair bobbed as she ran, a tangled, windblown mess from all the flying. She had moved fast getting the word to the armada and then tailing them back to the Great Hall.

"Excellent timing," Bertha commented as Heather nearly skidded to a stop on Astrid's other side. She combed a few fingers through her messy hair and Astrid nudged her side. The two women exchanged a smile. Across the table, Bertha gestured to the small assortment of pieces closer to the trio, a mix of shapes representing ships, dragons, and soldiers. "In front of you are our current forces," the Bog Burglar Chieftess started.

Her eyes shifted to the section of the map directly beneath her, three groups of wooden figurines far more numerous than those allotted to the Vikings amassed around the image of Berk.

"And this," she said, a pregnant pause holding her tongue, "is what we're up against."

It seemed to hit Dagur and Heather just then how dire the situation was. The number of pieces allotted to Drago's side had to have been at least double what the Bog Burglars and Berk had to offer, probably even more when adding in the dragons.

"I won't lie to either of you," Bertha added. She splayed her hands on the table, palms pressing into the wood beneath the map. "Drago Bludvist is incredibly dangerous. He's the man responsible for the murder of your uncle." _**[1]**_

"Uncle Uhtred?" Dagur asked. Bertha nodded solemnly.

"Your father sent him as his representative to the meeting of chieftains that Drago first struck at. Uhtred's death had a profound effect on your father, so much so that he even forsook his title," Bertha recalled. In the past, Oswald the Agreeable had been better known as Oswald the Antagonistic, a better representation of the Berserker Chiefs of the past. "This fight is personal for many of us. I'm sorry to spring such news on you out of the blue. It was my understanding that Oswald wished to hide this information from you, as I did with my daughter and Stoick did with his son. We have all long hoped that Drago would never return after that night, and for a long time, he didn't."

"But he's back now, and we need to keep what happened the last time he was here from ever happening again," Dagur picked up on the point Bertha was trying to make, "Say no more, Bertha, we're in."

Heather eyed the collection of figures, so much larger than the tally allotted to their side. It was difficult to imagine the scale of the foreigner's legion. "That's quite the army," she said, for lack of anything better.

"His soldiers must be pathetic, if he needs so many of them," Dagur quickly concluded, his bitterness clear as day in his eyes. He hadn't thought of his uncle Uhtred in many years, and this fresh knowledge was opening a wound that had been forcibly sewn shut by ignorance. One day all those years ago, his uncle had simply left and never come back.

"It's not the men that he gets his strength from," Astrid disputed, "it's the dragons."

"That's something I don't understand. Why would so many dragons fight for him? Surely he can't be treating them well if he uses them as weapons of war?" Heather inquired. She wrung her hands uneasily. It was an appropriate response, really, considering what the truth of the matter was. Heather was sharp—she knew that something was up.

"They don't fight for him, not of their own free will. Drago controls them and _makes_ them fight for him," Astrid explained.

Heather's eyebrows crooked downward, confused but feeling the need to be angry about whatever Astrid was implying. "How does he manage that?" she pressed, looking a little peeved at only being fed bits of information at the time. Astrid couldn't blame her.

"He uses a Bewilderbeast. The king of all dragons," Astrid clarified. She fastened her fingers around one of the dragon-shaped figures, lifting it up and waving it over the other dragon statuettes to get her point across. "We don't know how he got his hands on one, we didn't even know that such a thing existed until a few days ago, but his control is virtually ironclad. The Bewilderbeast has the power to impose its will upon nearly any dragon it wants. Drago uses this power to dominate the dragons he captures for his army and force their loyalty."

Heather's jaw dropped. "There's a _dragon _that can _do that?"_

Dagur, on the other hand, was curiously thrilled at such an idea. "Aw, can you imagine if I'd had something like that when I was trying to take over the archipelago? The Berserkers would have been _unstoppable."_

The three women in the room at once accosted Dagur with venomous glares. The similarities were almost uncanny. If one didn't know otherwise, they might assume that Astrid, Bertha, and Heather were all related. Their glares had the intended effect, shutting up Dagur's violent reminiscing. This was the difficulty in dealing with Dagur and warfare—it wasn't very long ago that the young Berserker had maintained a rather vicious relationship with the tribes he was supposed to be allies with, Hel-bent on 'restoring the Berserkers to their former glory'.

That had resulted in an extremely tenuous alliance with Alvin the Treacherous and the Outcast Tribe that was eventually broken. Through no small amount of work, all-out war had been avoided and the Viking archipelago had found itself in an era of peace, though Alvin and Dagur were still not particularly friendly with one another—who could blame them? Bertha had sent riders to visit the Outcasts and request their help as well, and knowing Alvin, he would come rushing to Berk's aid upon hearing that something had happened to Stoick.

Astrid hoped that having Alvin and Dagur in the same room wouldn't cause things to become explosive, they needed to focus on their common enemy. That was another reason Hiccup needed to return soon. He was one of the very few people that could adequately manage the likes of Dagur and Alvin for long periods of time. It was a gift, really.

"Er, sorry," Dagur repented, "Okay, so, big dragon with a crown on its head."

"Try really big. Like, the size of a mountain big."

"Oh, gods," Heather hissed, lowering her head into one of her hands and shaking it. Astrid felt for her.

"Alright, this isn't a problem. We've got this," Dagur insisted, possibly more to psych himself up than encourage the women. Even he looked affected by the thought of the odds against them, and he was deranged.

"Toothless has shown himself able to resist the Alpha, at least for a little bit. The ally that Hiccup went to find has another dragon that can do the same," Astrid offered.

Heather perked up at that, "Is there some way they can mimic the Alpha?"

Astrid shook her head, "Not that we know of. That's why we're thinking no dragons, at least until we can get the upper hand. We should assume that any dragon we bring into the fight will be taken by Drago's Alpha and turned against us. Until we can find a way to thwart the Alpha's control, we have to rely on ourselves to fight the battle."

"If we meet up somewhere near Berk, I can contribute the entire Berserker armada, both sea and air," Dagur said. He glanced down at the carvings representing their forces, an idea coming to him. "Perhaps we can hide our dragons on some of my ships and keep them away from the fight."

Astrid nodded, "I'm on board with that idea. The port is crowded with all of the ships, there's no sense in cluttering it even more."

"That makes three of us," Heather added, slightly raising her hand to communicate her support.

Astrid looked to Bertha, deferring to the Bog Burglar Chieftess. The great woman crossed her arms over her chest, scrutinizing all three of the younger Vikings before her. Finally, she relaxed. "Very well. But we still must consider our strategy for the actual battle… if Drago can simply steal our dragons and use them as his own—"

The doors to the Great Hall burst open, a Bog woman hustling inside. She was meaty like Bertha, but not quite as tall and a result not nearly as imposing. Still, judging by the wicked battle axe attached to her hip, there was little doubt that she was a force on the battlefield. Astrid, Heather, and Dagur turned their heads as the woman bowed, allowing Bertha to look between them at their visitor.

"Pardon my interruption, Chief," the woman pleaded, chest heaving up and down as she tried to catch her breath.

"Of course, Gertrude," Bertha replied, "Is something the matter?"

Gertrude sucked in a deep breath and straightened her posture. She shook her head in denial. "No, Chief. I came running to tell you that Chief Mogadon and his heir have arrived with a small entourage. They are being received at the docks now."

"Mogadon brought Thuggory with him?" Heather interjected curiously. The Meathead heir had grown up for the most part in the shadows in relation to the other tribes. Astrid knew him as, to be blunt, a cross between Snotlout and Fishlegs—that is, intelligent enough to know his shortcomings but still at times a hardheaded, boisterous brute. She supposed he got his relative smarts from his mother, since his father was the typical Viking, proud and stubborn beyond comprehension.

Bertha nodded firmly. "Thank you, Gertrude. Find my daughter and escort her to the docks. We'll be out to greet Mogadon shortly." Gertrude turned and scurried out of the Hall, letting the large door slam shut behind her.

Bertha let out a heavy sigh next and ran a brawny hand through her hair. "Let's table this discussion for now and bring Mogadon and Thuggory up to speed. Mogadon in particular will want to know everything we know. Drago's attack years ago was on his island after all. The Meatheads lost more that night than any of us."

Bertha circled around the table, waving the younger Vikings along with her. The three of them followed, quiet as a couple of mice, and left the table behind to greet the next batch of arriving allies.

* * *

"Toothless!" Hiccup called, walking back into the main room. The black dragon was nowhere to be seen. He'd gone looking through the tunnels only to find nothing. Over by the fire, Valka was packing the last of her things into a saddlebag she'd strung around Cloudjumper's flank and humming to herself.

"Hey, Mom? Have you seen Toothless?" Valka looked up from her bag, as did Cloudjumper, blinking his warm golden eyes. Valka frowned and shook her head, at a loss.

"He was here eating with Cloudjumper earlier, but I saw something catch his attention and he ran off into the nest."

Hiccup blinked. "Maybe he's playing with the other dragons?" he wondered aloud and crossed the room, passing behind Cloudjumper. The Stormcutter coiled his head completely around to watch him go, his muscular neck twisted in on itself but apparently not bothering the dragon in the least. Valka closed the saddlebag she'd been packing and followed her son, prompting Cloudjumper to trail behind them both with heavy footsteps.

Hiccup stepped out onto the natural balcony that overlooked the nest, a wide terrace of rock that was effectively the mouth of the large cave that was Valka's main room. The morning sunlight was filtering through the ice in the ceiling, reflecting every which way off of the walls to fill the underground nest with light. Dragons flapped back and forth, calling to each other as they went.

From the balcony, it was too easy to spot Toothless in the crowd—his jet-black scales and red prosthetic tailfin gave him away. The Night Fury was standing in the nest's center, staring at the fairly large gemstone rising up from the earth. The stone was definitely one of the stranger things Hiccup had ever seen. He'd noticed it on his way in yesterday but forgotten it in the slew of monumental events that followed. It was clear and devoid of color, but opaque and filled with a cloudy essence underneath its surface. It was like looking into a wall of fog. And for some reason, it had Toothless absolutely transfixed.

Valka reached Hiccup's side, following his eyes to spot Toothless as well. "Huh," she muttered, saying nothing else.

"I never asked," Hiccup started, "What exactly is that?"

Valka frowned. "I don't quite know. There are many mysteries to this nest, but none greater than that crystal. I've lived here for twenty years, yet I can't even begin to understand its place here."

"I'm gonna go get him. We need to get moving," Hiccup said. He slid his arms into the catches that would let him release his wings and glide, raising one leg up onto the rock ledge.

Valka wasn't paying enough attention to notice what he was doing. "We'll give you a lift—" she started, only to be cut off when Hiccup _jumped. _The dragon woman bit back a shout and Hiccup went tumbling off the edge. She sprinted to the ledge and nearly threw herself over it searching for him. He plummeted, his fall seemingly occurring in slow motion to Valka, only to yank his arms outward and unveil the leather flaps hidden in his armor. The "wings" caught the air surrounding him and he immediately floated through the air, heading straight for Toothless and the strange crystal.

"What… the…?" Valka mumbled, fascinated. Cloudjumper's grunt jerked her from her trance and she immediately climbed onto the Stormcutter's back. She had a great many more questions to ask her son during the flight to the Bog Isles.

Hiccup stumbled into a landing, heaving his legs in front of him as he reached the ground. It wasn't the most graceful arrival, but he managed to not fall flat on his face. Toothless didn't so much as flinch in his direction, still giving the gemstone his undivided attention. Perplexed, Hiccup crammed his gliding wings back into their pockets and fixed his eyes on his dragon.

"Bud? It's time to go," Hiccup said. Toothless craned his neck to look at him now, pale green eyes full of curiosity. Both dragon and Viking stared at one another for several seconds, as if speaking would break the tension and send one of them running like a spooked deer.

"Toothless? What's wrong?" Hiccup pressed. Toothless looked back at the crystal and then turned his head again to stare at Hiccup. The dragon parted his lips and flicked his head at the gemstone, offering a muted whine that only served to stump Hiccup even more.

Toothless looked past Hiccup and Cloudjumper landed noisily behind them, but the Stormcutter's arrival didn't deter the Night Fury one bit, even as Valka dismounted and came to Hiccup's side. Toothless returned his eyes to the gem and padded forward, wings nearly dragging along the ground and his long tail swishing slightly as he crept between the crown of frozen spikes at the base of the rock, the gap between them just large enough for the Night Fury to slip through. Hiccup followed at a distance, watching the foggy, blank crystal and trying to figure out why Toothless was so interested.

Toothless only stopped when he was mere inches from the gem, his warm breath brushing against its smooth surface. The black dragon's throat rumbled, and he led out the tiniest warble. Something deep inside had drawn the Night Fury to this stone, something Toothless would never be able to articulate to Hiccup. All he understood was that he needed to be here right now.

"What is he doing?" Hiccup muttered as Valka again stepped up beside him, just as perplexed as he was.

The crystal _hummed, _dashing any and all thoughts. Hiccup and Valka paused, exchanging identical looks of uncertainty. Had they truly just heard that? Then, a second time, the gemstone _hummed,_ and a deep blue glow formed in its center, pulsing like a very slow heartbeat as it grew in size. It wasn't large enough to fill the strange gemstone, but Valka's gasp said just enough about how unprecedented the glowing was. Toothless staggered a step back, and as soon as he did, the glow went away, retreating back into the crystal's cloudy depths.

Toothless warbled and took a step forward again, but the glow didn't return. The dragon whined again, and still nothing.

"What was that?" Hiccup gasped.

Valka shrugged her shoulders, drumming her fingers along her staff and wearing a look of concentration. "I don't know. I've never seen that stone do anything like that before. I thought it was just a part of the nest. The dragons certainly aren't bothered by it."

Hiccup glanced at her, his mind a disordered mess. Honestly, as strange as this gem was, his thoughts were very much elsewhere. The flight back to Bog was going to take all day, and his impatience to get going peeked through again. "Well… whatever that was, it doesn't seem to be doing it again. Maybe it was some kind of response to Toothless getting close or something. In any case, we really need to get moving. Astrid will start getting worried if I'm not back tonight."

Valka conceded with a nod, "You're right. We can devote our energy to finding out what just happened here once this is over." She turned to her dragon, "Cloudjumper, call the other dragons, please."

"Toothless, c'mon, bud," Hiccup called. The Night Fury turned his head again and moaned, padding away from the gem in defeat. "Hey, cheer up, bud. Stormfly'll be happy to see you," Hiccup pointed out. That seemed to put the dragon in better spirits.

Cloudjumper let out a roar that got the attention of the rest of the nest's dragons, livening the nest with a din of dragons readying to go. Valka was bringing as many of her dragons with them as she could to combat Drago's dragon army with their own. Well, not that word for word, but with the dragons from this nest, once they cut off Drago's connection to the Alpha, they'd be virtually unstoppable. They'd strategized for most of the morning, drafting a partial plan to bring to Bertha.

Hiccup crawled onto Toothless' back and fit his legs snugly in the stirrups. His prosthetic foot locked into the pedal with a metallic _click,_ and the sound made Hiccup relax for the first time in a while. He was ready to leave this place and see his wife. They'd only been apart for almost two days, and yet just the thought of Astrid made him ache and yearn to have her next to him and just be talking to her. That would be enough for him.

The dragons filling the mountain had flocked to them, circling through the nest and merely waiting for the call. Valka climbed onto Cloudjumper, cradling her mask in one hand and her staff in the other.

"Are you ready?" she asked, holding him from a distance with a look that seemed to communicate so much more than three simple words. She wasn't just asking if he was ready to leave, she was asking him if he was ready to _go, _to put his ideals on the line and take back their home and to be the _Chief._

He was.

So, he nodded, and then Valka eyed all the dragons set to come with them. There was a nostalgia in her eye as she examined the nest that she had lived in amongst dragons for so long. Perhaps part of her didn't want to go, but the rest of her knew that she had to. "Then let us be off," she said, and she slid her head inside her mask, its spindly spines extending from her head and giving her the appearance of a seven-foot-tall living myth. "Let's go, Cloudjumper!"

The Stormcutter roared as he lifted off the ground, whipping the other dragons into a frenzy. Similar dragon calls went up in answer, bouncing off of the walls of the nest and filling Hiccup's ears. Cloudjumper beat his great wings and headed for the tunnels to leave the mountain, so Hiccup cranked the pedal to open the tailfin. Toothless squatted down on his haunches and launched, a relieving _whoosh _of air swirling around both dragon and rider.

Hiccup ducked his head and put on his helmet, relishing the feel of the leather on his jaw. He leaned into Toothless as the Night Fury picked up speed. They took off after Cloudjumper, grabbing the second spot in the pack of dragons as they endeavored to catch up. Once they were in the open air, they'd slide in beside the Stormcutter.

Toothless navigated the tunnels as if he'd lived in them all his life, and it wasn't long at all before the light at the end of the tunnel reached them. They blazed out of the cave into the morning sun, and leading an army of dragons, left Valka's mountain behind.

* * *

They avoided Berk entirely on the trip back. Partly because it would've been too easy for them to be spotted in the daylight with a dragon horde in tow, and also partly because Hiccup didn't want to see his subjugated home for a second time. He wanted the next time he laid eyes on the island to be the time that they reconquered it and drove Drago from their midst.

His mother wasn't with him at the front of the pack anymore. They'd flown side by side for the first hour or so and talked, but after there wasn't anything more to say, she opted to bring up the rear in order to do a better job of keeping an eye out for any hostile dragon trappers or soldiers of Drago's. There was no telling if he'd sent scouts or not, and reaching Bog safely was of the utmost importance.

Hiccup couldn't say that he minded it that much. It left him to his thoughts, which meant the time slipped away like it always did when he got to thinking. He had ample time to come up with an idea or two for the coming battle and had stumbled upon an opportunity to use Smothering Smokebreaths to cover their approach. If he knew Dagur, the Berserker Chief would happily supply plenty of ships, which meant a strong naval approach. They'd be attacked the second they were spotted. The Bog Isles had a healthy population of trained Smothering Smokebreaths. He'd talk to Cami about it when he got back.

So, with the time getting away from him like a Terror that had stolen some food, it didn't feel terribly long before Bog appeared in the distance. In actuality, the day was nearly over by then, with the sun on its final descent from the sky and painting the seas with a shade of orange, but as far as Hiccup was concerned, it could've been noon. The sight of the island, and the thought of returning to Astrid, energized him like nothing else.

He supposed that she felt the same way, primarily because she was leading the welcoming party that came out to receive them.

She was like a sunbeam, glowing as she and Stormfly came barreling out to sea as their party approached the island. Beside her were Heather and Windshear as well as Cami and Thatch. Stormfly led the pack and leaned into a wide turn, intercepting Hiccup and Toothless perfectly. The Nadder trilled, delighted to see her two favorite boys again.

"Well, good evening to you too, Stormfly!" Hiccup laughed. He looked up at the Nadder's rider, struck by her beauty as he often was. "Milady," he greeted, a huge grin plastered on his face.

"You sure brought the whole mountain back with you!" she shouted over the wind, "Bertha won't be very happy about that!"

"Why's that?"

"She ripped Dagur a new one this morning for showing up with his entire dragon armada. You should've seen his face," Astrid explained.

"Oh, boy," Hiccup lamented. He'd heard of Bertha's famous tongue-lashings and had no desire to be on the receiving end of one. He'd have to personally ensure that all the dragons he'd brought back settled for the time being on the surrounding islands.

"It's all been handled, though, thanks to me," Heather interjected, gliding up on Astrid's other side. She poked her head out so Hiccup could see her.

"Hi, Heather. It's good to see you," Hiccup greeted.

"Likewise. Dagur has been _itching_ to talk to you, 'brother'," the black-haired woman said, cracking a wicked grin.

"Oh, good. I've also been waiting to reconnect with my brother, with whom I don't share an ounce of common blood," Hiccup answered with enough sarcasm to spoil a jug of mead.

"Don't let him hear you say that…" Astrid quipped. While Heather chuckled, she leaned in her husband's direction, eyeing him very seriously. "Hey, babe? Where's, uh, you-know-who?"

"Back of the pack," Hiccup said, "She wanted to keep another pair of eyes out for any danger."

"And are you two…?" she added, leaving the question hanging.

He smiled lightly, appreciating her concern. "Yeah. We're okay," he said, and smiled again as he saw Astrid relax. Neither Heather nor Cami had heard them, and like Astrid, hadn't seen Valka. He wondered how this surprise introduction was going to go once they landed. Everyone he knew thought that his mother had perished in a dragon raid 20 years ago. Or at least they had, before he unmasked her back at the Steppingstones.

The haze of dragons rumbled over Bog, buzzing and screeching and dashing. On the ground, Vikings exited their homes, many of them shouting in confusion and pointing.

"Let's head down, Stormfly," Astrid called out. The Nadder trilled and flapped her wings, angling herself towards the ground. Toothless, Windshear, and Thatch followed in a line, separating themselves from the pack of dragons Hiccup had brought. Berkians mingled with Bog Burglars, and jubilant shouting rippled through the crowd as they recognized the Night Fury descending into town.

"_Hey, look! It's Hiccup!"_

"_Hiccup's back!"_

Toothless touched the ground to raucous applause. Hiccup swung out of the dragon's saddle and reached out to help Astrid down from Stormfly. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Bertha walking over to them, the crowd parting to let her pass.

The voluptuous woman had her eyes fixed on the sky as she walked into earshot, arms crossed over her chest. "So, Hiccup Haddock, you leave for a few days and return with even more dragons in tow. I fear if I wait much longer, I'll be the Chief of a tribe of dragons, as well."

"I'm sorry for springing this on you, Bertha. I'll make sure of it that the dragons I brought will nest on the surrounding islands and not intrude on the village," Hiccup replied.

"I suppose I have little choice in the matter," Bertha grunted, a compromise she had to make.

Hiccup nodded gratefully, "Thank you, Bertha. I hope you know that I value your help. When this is over, I'll make sure that the Bog Burglars are well compensated."

A wild howl suddenly split the air, closely followed by a flash of red hair and tattoos. _"Brother!" _Dagur the Deranged came running and nearly tackled Hiccup, yanking him a few inches off of his feet and hugging him tight.

Hiccup wheezed, gasping for breath. "Dagur—_urk—_you're squeezing me."

"I'm so glad that you're finally here! It's been dreadfully boring without you!" Dagur hollered and set Hiccup back on his feet. He had about two inches of height on the Berserker Chief now, but no advantage would ever make him feel truly safe around Dagur, not when the man could lift him off of the ground with ease. The crazed Viking looked past Hiccup now, scanning the village for something. "Now, where is this mysterious ally Astrid told me you were off searching for?"

Hiccup exchanged a silent look with Astrid. He was glad that she hadn't told Dagur specifically _who _he was looking for. It made him feel better that he was going to have to share the revelation of his mother's survival with everyone. Berk already knew about Valka, but the rest of the archipelago didn't.

"She's on her way," he answered simply, eyes on the horde of dragons as a Stormcutter visibly broke through the pack and started heading down, all four wings spread wide.

"She?" Dagur repeated, following Hiccup's eyes to the descending Stormcutter. Cloudjumper landed with a _thud, _claws digging into the dirt pathway as his rider stood tall atop his back. Valka was dressed in full armor, and her staff dangled at her side in her grasp. "Woah," Dagur said, awestruck.

Hiccup motioned for Valka to remove her helmet, and the dragon woman slowly complied, freeing the auburn locks that Hiccup had so clearly inherited. The physical similarities between them were all too telling for the uninformed Bog Burglars and Berserkers. Hiccup even heard Bertha gasp under her breath, disbelieving.

"Everyone, this is Valka… my mom."

"Today just keeps getting crazier," Heather mumbled.

Cami, on the other hand, was effectively flabbergasted. "Your _mother_ is _alive?"_

Hiccup grimaced, nodding his head nervously. "It's a recent development…"

"But… everyone said she was snatched up by dragons in a raid, what, twenty years ago now? I don't…" Cami rambled. Her features relaxed with realization as she put the pieces together, "They didn't hurt her," she concluded.

"No, they didn't," Hiccup said, "And now, she fights to protect the dragons from Drago. She's going to help us defeat him, once and for all."

"Wait, so your mother is like… some nomadic, vigilante dragon lady?" Dagur posited, giving the idea some thought before cracking a grin, "That. Is. _Awesome!"_

The Berserker Chief marched right on up to Cloudjumper, holding his grin. Cloudjumper eyed him curiously, ready to protect himself despite being many times larger than the seemingly unarmed man. "Dagur the Deranged, at your service!" he greeted Valka, offering his hand for a handshake.

For someone as wild as Dagur, he was being uncharacteristically formal. Valka practically danced off of Cloudjumper's back, reaching the ground with all the grace of the Chieftess she had once been, and she shook Dagur's hand properly.

"You're Oswald's boy," Valka acknowledged, and Dagur nodded with pride. Bertha lumbered over next. She was larger than Valka in every conceivable way, and yet still she seemed less threatening than the woman that was supposed to be dead.

"Valka Haddock. I thought I'd have to be dead before I laid eyes on you again," the Bog Burglar said. "I'm afraid I don't fully understand how it is that you're here now, but I suppose it matters little considering everything else." Bertha lifted a large hand to Valka's comparatively smaller shoulder, resting it there and offering her condolences. "I want you to know I'm very sorry about Stoick."

"I appreciate your sympathy, Bertha. And I'm sorry for bringing so many dragons to your door. I'll keep them far out of your hair for the time being," Valka promised. Bertha nodded agreeably.

"Thank you. We're discussing our battle strategy tomorrow morning. I expect you'd like to be in attendance?"

"If you'll have me," Valka replied.

"Of course," Bertha promised. She peeled away from the seemingly revived woman and returned to her people, ordering them with various shouts and screams to disperse and return to what they were doing. Little by little, people trickled away, muttering in disbelief, confusion, or alternatively, exhaustion.

Valka's eyes dropped to Hiccup and company. His friends surrounded him, a few of them eyeing her suspiciously (Camicazi in particular). She supposed she deserved the wariness. From across the village, Snotlout, Fishlegs, and the twins came hustling over, all four of them staring at Valka; the shock of the knowledge of her survival having still not worn off. Further away, a few dragons were fluttering down to the ground, a familiar face on the back of one. She remembered Mogadon quite well, even twenty years later. It occurred to Valka that there were a lot of questions that would need answering, and she was not in the condition to be bombarded with such inquiries at the moment.

Hiccup looked up from his friends at her, and a silent understanding instantly passed between them. She was exhausted, and he looked to be feeling the same.

"I'm going to corral the dragons and find an island to rest on. I'll return in the morning?" Valka said, leaving the question hanging.

"Sure," Hiccup agreed, "I'll see you at the strategy meeting first thing tomorrow." Valka dipped her head in agreement and clambered back onto Cloudjumper, briefly twirling her staff so that the rattles inside clattered in their sockets.

"Go, Cloudjumper," she ordered, and the Stormcutter took off. As the massive dragon ascended, he let out a commanding roar that garnered the attention of all of the dragons from the mountain, and one by one they lifted into the air and followed as Valka flew toward one of the small, uninhabited piles of sand scattered around the Bog Isles, disappearing from sight.

Hiccup turned back to his friends and sagged his shoulders with a heavy exhale, the fatigue finally getting to him. Camicazi scoffed as she stopped watching Valka's receding silhouette. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I could use a drink or three."

"Seconded," Heather agreed. She glanced at her brother, inquiring, "Dagur?"

Dagur shook his head, "I'm about to make a patrol run, but I'll drop over in a few. Save one for me, sis."

"Hic? You coming?" Camicazi asked, eyeing him with slightly narrowed eyes.

Dagur butted in excitedly, "Or do you want to come patrol with me, brother? Think about it, it'll be just like old times!" Hiccup's face contorted in such a way that asked _how would that be anything like old times? _and he shook his head tiredly.

"I think I'm actually gonna follow Mom's lead, guys. It's been a long couple of days and it's starting to catch up with me. I know Toothless could use the rest, too, with all the flying he's done." Toothless snorted agreeably at his side, slowly blinking his big eyes and letting out a small yawn.

Camicazi grunted irritably. "Well, I'm going to snag a table before it gets too crowded. Anyone else who wants to come is more than welcome." The Bog Burglar heiress stalked off; Heather close on her heels. The black-haired Berserker started muttering something to Cami under her breath, but the fire in Cami's steps didn't let up. Fishlegs, Snotlout, and the twins followed in a pack, each of them nudging Hiccup and saying something along the lines of _welcome back_ before tailing the two women up the hill.

"That's my cue. See you in the morning, brother," Dagur said in farewell, and he nearly skipped away, cupping his hands over his mouth to shout, "Sleuther! Where'd you go, buddy? Let's go for a flight!"

As Dagur's voice receded into the crowded village, Hiccup turned his tired gaze to Astrid. She tucked a few locks of her blonde hair behind her ear and the sight of her made his heart skip a beat, rejuvenating him even if only a little. Still, he frowned, taking another look into the square as Camicazi continued to lead the pack of young, alcohol-thirsty Vikings away.

"What's Cami's problem?" he asked, returning his warm eyes to his wife. Astrid looked after the larcenous blonde and shrugged.

"I don't know. She hasn't acted this way before. Maybe I should go after them and try to talk her down," Astrid wondered.

Hiccup nodded in understanding and stepped forward to wrap his arms around Astrid's lower back, wrapping her in his grasp so that they were painfully close to one another. "You do that. I hate to leave you, but—"

"Oh, no, don't sweat it. You need rest," Astrid interrupted, "Head up to Bertha's house. She lent us the loft on the second floor." She suddenly narrowed her eyes in one of her signature glares, "And _do not _let Toothless take up the other half, please?"

Hiccup couldn't help the smirk that struck across his face in response, recalling one time when he'd let the dragon into their bed for a nap while Astrid had been out doing errands. She hadn't loved that, and he'd had to wash the sheets all on his own thanks to Toothless drooling on the linens. "As you wish, milady."

A sweet smile returned to Astrid's features; any notion of negativity instantly dashed. Astrid lifted a hand to her husband's arm, squeezing his elbow lovingly. Then she reached up on her toes to kiss him, short and sweet. She could almost feel how tired he was. It had been a long several days, and there was no end yet in sight.

"I'll see you soon," she promised, and she slipped free from Hiccup's grip. His hands fell to his sides and Astrid took off.

"Thanks for taking care of Berk while I was gone!" he called after her. Astrid spun around on her heels, backpedaling down the road as she shouted back to him.

"Don't mention it!" Then she was facing forward again and weaving into the crowd of Vikings.

Hiccup sighed and watched until she was out of his sight. Toothless rumbled, bored of standing still when they could be moving instead. One groan out of the Night Fury drew Hiccup's attention, and he chuckled as he ran a few fingers gently down the smooth scales atop the dragon's head. Toothless leaned into his slight touch, appreciative.

"Alright, bud. Let's go to Bertha's," Hiccup said, and he started to walk down the adjacent path in the direction of the village's highest point, where the Chief's house stood proudly watching the people of Bog. Toothless' footsteps shadowed him, and together, Viking and dragon headed off in search of some much-needed rest.

* * *

_**[1] - This is my own personal addition. I needed to place the Berserkers at the infamous meeting, and while my initial plan was to have Dagur's grandfather as the Chief on that night, further research explained that Oswald (previously known as Oswald the Antagonistic) had warred with Berk in the past and Stoick and Valka first fell in love during one such attack. In the interest of keeping close-ish with canon, I instead had Oswald send his brother in his place to the meeting, perhaps out of disrespect or a lack of interest in meeting with the other chiefs. His brother's death in Drago's attack and his understanding that he himself was this close to dying instead therefore changed Oswald's outlook on life and turned him into the docile Oswald the Agreeable that led the Berserkers away from their former glory, in Dagur's words.**_

* * *

**Thanks for reading, all. Reviews are always appreciated more than I can say, even if they are negative. Chapter 20 will go up next week, and after that the final arc will begin.**


	20. Last Sunset

**Last chapter before the final arc. I gotta say, I'm glad this part of the story is now over. This chapter is hardly my favorite, but I suppose there's a few cool things in there. I promise, next week's update will be the start of much more exciting things. I hope you'll all agree with me when the time comes.**

* * *

_**20\. Last Sunset**_

Valka looked up at the sound of wingbeats in the night sky, following Cloudjumper's observant eyes but seeing nothing until the shape intruded upon the glow of the fire. A hefty Hotburple fluttered into the firelight, hauling the two-limbed body of a very familiar blacksmith on its back.

Gobber the Belch eyed her from the back of his dragon as he landed, his mouth hanging slightly open as he took her in, twenty years older than the last time he'd laid eyes on her.

"Gobber?" Valka half-asked, hoping her voice would retrieve the smith from his trance. Gobber blinked rapidly at the sound of her voice and he drew his bottom lip in.

"Val. I… I had to come see ye. See if you were real and I wasn't just imaginin' things back there," the blacksmith drawled. He slid off of his Hotburple's back, reaching into the saddle bag once his feet (well, foot and peg leg) were on the ground to withdraw a flask of mead. "And it seems that I'm going to need this, after all."

Gobber unscrewed his prosthetic hand—presently in the shape of a hammer—and replaced it with the flask, revealing it to actually be an attachment. How inventive. Gobber popped open the cap on the flask and took a slow swig, exhaling tiredly as he lowered it from his lips. The smith looked at her again and began to waddle over, limping but determined. Gobber sat beside her on the stump, keeping a respectable barrier between the two of them. He sighed, relieved to be resting.

"I suppose I have a great many things to explain," Valka started.

"I 'ave a lot of questions, I'll admit. But you don't hafta answer them." Gobber took another long draw from his flask.

"What's his name?" Valka decided to ask, pointing to the Hotburple on the other side of the fire. The burly dragon was sleeping, having drifted off in a matter of seconds once he'd landed.

"That's Grump: the laziest dragon this side of Berserk," Gobber replied, "And your beastie?" he added, eyeing the tall Stormcutter casting its intimidating shadow over Valka.

"Cloudjumper," she answered curtly.

They fell into a painfully awkward silence, Gobber not even drinking from his flask anymore. A breeze whipped up, tangling the tongues of the nearby fire with each other so that they whispered hungrily in the silence.

"Why did ya leave, Val?" Gobber said unexpectedly. Valka looked at the blacksmith, the blonde hairs of his mustache glowing as they reflected some of the firelight, "The last five years've given us lots of time to look back. Were we so immovable, so impossible back then that ya thought it better to just take off?"

"I… made mistakes," Valka mumbled, "Terrible ones that I can never earn forgiveness for. I don't know… what I thought back then, exactly. Mostly, I thought Hiccup would be better off without me… without his crazy dragon-loving mother."

"It turned out, he was your crazy dragon-loving son," Gobber snorted, though not mockingly. Rather, he was grinning. He shook his fist at the sky, a wistful gleam in his eye. "I tell you, that boy… he used ta drive me up the walls with that head of his, always dreamin' up preposterous inventions that usually harmed the village more than they helped."

Valka frowned. "I'm sure his father took quite well to that."

"Well, of course," Gobber chortled. He offered Valka his flask and, surprisingly, she took it, unscrewing the little cap and tilting the little canister until she could drink from it. The mead inside still tasted terrible—it had been a long time since she'd ingested Berk's awful brews—but the fluid still brought a welcome warmth in her gut as she handed the flask back to Gobber.

"How long were you on Berk, exactly? Before Drago came," Gobber asked next.

"A few days. When I attacked Drago's fleet in the night, I unknowingly helped Hiccup and Astrid escape. I chased them down, thinking they were some of Drago's men forcing their dragons to help them get away. You can imagine my… _surprise _when I learned the truth." Gobber laughed with all his heart and swigged from his flask.

"Oh, aye. That I can," the blacksmith chortled upon lowering his drink, "Lemme tell you all about how we learned of Hiccup and his Night Fury pal. Looking back, I would've thought all of Hel was goin' to break loose that day."

Gobber recounted the whole tale, from the night that Hiccup had shot Toothless down to the day of the final exam, when Astrid had tried to show the rest of the village the truth and Toothless had torn his way into the arena to protect Hiccup from an enraged Nightmare. Valka's expression shifted many times throughout the story and crossed an entire battlefield of emotions, from surprise and awe to misery and horror.

"Hiccup's lived himself quite the saga," she said when Gobber was finished. The blacksmith chortled.

"Aye, perhaps I'll take charge of writin' one when all of this is over."

"I'd quite like to listen," Valka said, lips quirking up in a smile.

Gobber smiled thinly and took another sip from his flask. They swapped a few more stories, recounting the years between the last time they'd seen one another. He told her how he came to meet Grump, and she detailed her first flight with Cloudjumper, among other things.

Their conversation came to a screeching halt when Gobber accidentally brought up Stoick. It had been a spur of the moment slip-up, but the effect was instantaneous. Every ounce of mirth that Valka had stirred up dissolved, and silence took a grim hold over the campsite.

Gobber tried to salvage things. "We never did see a body, I s'pose. He could still be alive."

Val gave a weak, sad smile, grateful, but said nothing. Gobber set his flask down and extended his remaining hand (it was strange for Valka to see Gobber's prosthetics—he'd still had both hands and both feet when she'd left) to her.

"It may not provide much comfort," Gobber said, "But why don't we share a prayer?"

Valka eyed the blacksmith's hand for several moments as if it were some foreign device, and then took it, interlocking her fingers with Gobber's. The old smith smiled through his facial hair and then dipped his head, letting his eyes drift closed.

There, under all the stars and by the light of the fire, Gobber and Valka prayed to every god that would listen for two things. If Stoick was indeed dead, let him take his rightful place in Valhalla. And if it was not yet his time, then lend him the strength to continue until all three of them could be together again.

* * *

"I don't get it."

Astrid looked at Camicazi. The blonde Bog Burglar was sitting directly across from her at the large table, halfway through a tall mug of mead. "You don't get what?"

"That was Hiccup's _mom. _She let everybody think that she was dead for… how long?" Cami repeated, taking a quick sip of her drink.

"Twenty years, to be exact," Fishlegs piped up from his seat next to Heather.

"I never asked, but what exactly was Aunt Valka doing all this time? Didn't she know Stoick thought she was dead?" Snotlout added, swigging from his own mug. Ruff and Tuff were across from him on Cami's right, two whole seats separating him from Astrid on their side of the table.

"He and I have already gone through it all with her," Astrid said, really not willing to get in the middle of things. She was tired and regretting her decision to even come to the tavern with the others in the first place.

"What she did doesn't upset you?" Cami pressed.

Astrid paused, offering a slow shrug. "I mean, I'm not _not _upset by what she did. But it's also not necessarily my business. She's Hiccup's mom, not mine. And she did a bad thing, sure, but we need her for this. Hiccup seems to have worked through his differences with Valka for the time being, so I'm just going to let him handle it."

"That's a mature way of looking at it, Astrid," Heather thankfully backed her up, sitting in the seat to Cami's left. The black-haired Berserker was also helping herself to her own drink. Astrid took a long glance at the tavern she'd followed the two women into. It was a packed house—the island's favorite (and only) watering hole had seen a sharp spike in business over the last few days. The Bog Burglars had claim to enormous stores of liquor, some of it made from scratch, some of it bought from traders, and some of it outright stolen from various places around the archipelago. With how the last few days had gone, though, Astrid expected that their supplies were close to running dangerously low thanks to the doubled consumption going on. That didn't stop the tavern from being packed full for yet another night.

Cami seemed to get the message and just shrugged. "I guess you're right. I'm just saying it would bother me a lot if my mom did something like that. I'm sorry."

Astrid shook her head, "Don't be. It's been a lot to take in for him, too."

"Yeah…" Cami murmured lazily, "You sure you don't want a drink, Astrid?"

Astrid held up a hand, declining the offer. "I'd rather keep my wits about me, if it's all the same." Cami scrutinized her for a few seconds, though it felt like a long while. Heather seemed to be eyeing Astrid, too, but she played it off well and Cami shrugged.

"Meh. More for us," she replied, and took another long swig. Astrid silently thanked the gods that Cami didn't pry any further.

Behind them a _thump_ echoed into the tavern and the doors promptly opened, letting two men step into the room. They were practically mirror images of each other, both tall and muscular. The larger of the two men sported full red hair both on his head and face. Three claw-like tattoos scrawled across his eye, and he was wearing a set of light armor, a gold belt buckle bearing the visage of a Skrill completing the outfit. _Dagur._

The second man was about a half-head shorter than the Berserker Chief, and his braided hair was a dirtied blonde. A helmet sat tucked under his left arm, and an inky black tattoo on his bicep formed the shape of two islands separated from one another by a narrow strait. The ink depicted his home, which the young man would one day inherit from his father. Thuggory, son of Mogadon and heir to the Meathead Tribe, laughed at something that Dagur had said and raised two fingers at a nearby barmaid, signaling for two drinks to be brought around to looked up and Heather caught his eye, waving him over. He nudged Thuggory on the arm and cocked his head in the group's direction, and Thuggory followed with a grin reaching from ear to ear.

"Dagster!" Snotlout called as the pair reached their table, exchanging a low high-five with the Berserker chieftain.

"Snotknuckles, my main man," Dagur chortled, standing on the end of the table as if he were the head of the theoretical household. Thuggory on the other hand slithered over near Astrid.

"Astrid Hofferson, looking as beautiful as ever," the Meathead heir flirted. He flashed a smile that was apparently supposed to be charming, but it had absolutely zero effect on Astrid.

"Step off, Thuggory, she's married," Camicazi interjected.

Dagur whistled in warning, counseling Thuggory to make amends for his indiscretion, but the Meathead heir was undeterred, smirking as he claimed the seat next to Astrid.

She knew he wasn't interested—or at the very least, that he knew she would never be interested in him and was okay with that. This little charade was part of the game he played with her every time they saw one another, a suggestive flirt here and a sarcastic rebuttal there, and then the two were back to normal afterwards. Thuggory himself was still a bachelor these days, but he had no shortage of Viking girls chasing after his—as Astrid had once overheard, _buns of steel. _Seriously. As if marrying into the family of the Chief wasn't the main draw.

Astrid honestly didn't see what the appeal was. Thuggory was a good lad, but he was basically a bigger, situationally smarter version of Snotlout. Astrid had first met Thuggory when they were sixteen, after the Meatheads had landed in Berk for the Thing, not long after the Thawfest. Since Astrid had never been qualified to make the trip for the meetings before, the year that the gathering came to Berk had been her first—as the heir's betrothed. Thuggory had briefly been smitten and tried to win her over, to no avail, and eventually they became friendly upon seeing more of one another. Still, Thuggory liked to ruffle her (or Hiccup's) feathers with a little casual flirting here and there.

A Bog Burglar barmaid hustled over with two fresh mugs of mead in her hands, setting them down in front of Dagur and Thuggory. The latter whispered thanks to the barmaid and returned his gaze to Cami, shrugging as he lifted his drink in one hand and grinning conspiratorially.

"I know, I know, but since I'm not seeing Hiccup here, I figure the gentlemanly thing to do is clarify that the offer will always stand if she grows bored of her husband, _the Night Fury conqueror!" _Thuggory referred to Hiccup with a sort of awe there, playing up her husband's legend all for his own amusement. He took a sip of his drink.

"Well, Thuggory, like I've told Snotlout dozens of times over the years—you couldn't have me if you were the last man on Midgard," Astrid fired back, wearing a wicked smirk as she shoved her hand into Thuggory's head, nearly knocking him over. The table erupted with a rush of _ooh's _led first and foremost by Ruff and Tuff.

"It's true, she really has said that—" Tuff cackled.

"Astrid with the zinger!" Dagur howled over him, slapping his hands onto Thuggory's shoulders and shaking the heir. "You got served, Thugs!" he shouted right into Thuggory's face, and some of Thuggory's drink stirred up from being shaken and spilled over the rim of the mug, splattering on the table.

"_Oi! Keep it down, o'er there!" _a large and threatening Bog Burglar tending the bar snapped in warning. Dagur rolled his eyes and released his hold on Thuggory, crumpling into an open seat next to Snotlout.

"So, fill me in. What's the latest gossip around here?" Thuggory asked in an effort to kickstart a new conversation.

"We're just talking about Hiccup's undead dragon-riding mom," Tuffnut blurted out, like it was the coolest thing he'd ever heard of.

Fishlegs sucked in a sharp breath and shook his head in disappointment. "She's not un_dead, _Tuffnut. The probability of that is exactly zero."

"Oh," Tuffnut blurted out lamely, going slack as he stared into the table. "Well, that's not as fun," he grunted, lifting his hand to scratch at the ultra-thin stubble sprouting along his jaw that he swore to the high heavens would soon be a magnificent beard.

"So, hold on, that rumor is true?" Thuggory asked, "Hiccup's mother is _alive?"_

"Yeah, and she's gonna help us kick that asshole Drago's…" Ruff said, trailing off as she struggled to find the word she was looking for. "Uh… ass."

Tuffnut rolled his eyes, "Ugh. You're such a moron," he complained, and swigged from his mug.

"A beautiful moron," Snotlout whispered cheekily, trying to win points with the Thorston girl. Tuffnut peered over the lip of his mug, still force-feeding himself more mead, and narrowed his eyes.

"Sorry, 'Snotknuckles'," Ruffnut drawled, shoving Dagur's odd nickname for the Jorgenson man back into his face, "But I'm spoken for."

Tuffnut loudly spit his drink back into his cup. "By _who?"_

"The man of my dreams: Eret, son of Eret!" Ruffnut swooned. Snotlout's eyes widened and he straightened his back, raising a hand to his mouth and pathetically brushing the beginnings of a goatee that was not yet thick enough.

"But baby, I grew facial hair for you," he whined.

Dagur looked away from the exchange, puckering his lips as he silently whistled. "Oh, this is embarrassing…" he muttered, and hid his face in his drink. Astrid concurred, almost wishing that she could _have_ a drink just to distract herself the same way. Ruffnut's claim wouldn't deter Snotlout from his advances, she was merely stringing him further along.

"Tell you what, Jorgenson, you manage to grow that thing into a full-on muzzle," Ruffnut gestured below her chin to relay what she was picturing, "then maybe we can schedule a meeting. I'd hurry, though, my front door's packed with suitors!" she bragged.

Astrid rolled her eyes. "She was talking about Drago," she clarified to Thuggory after poking him on the arm. The Meathead heir let out an _'ah' _and nodded his head carefully.

"Yeah, Dad told me all about that guy. Sounds like a real piece of work, building a dragon army and invading Berk and killing Stoick."

"We actually don't know if Stoick's really dead or not. It's on the to-do list to find out," Heather corrected.

Thuggory shrugged. "Well, I hope he's alive, then. I've always liked Stoick—he's a great leader. And it would really suck for Hiccup to get his mom back and then immediately lose his dad." On that note, Thuggory brightened up, eager to move on to a less miserable topic. "Speaking of our beloved Night Fury conqueror, where _is _Hiccup, anyway?" Thuggory asked, looking at Astrid pointedly.

"Getting some sleep up at Bertha's. He's had a long couple of days and needs the rest," Astrid replied. Thuggory groaned irritably, throwing back his head in dramatized dejection.

"Boo, weak!" he complained, "I never get to have a drink with Hiccup when it's not official Viking business. So much for being Berk's closest ally."

"Closest ally? I think you've got the wrong tribe there, Thugs," Cami interrupted, wearing a devious smirk.

"You lot, Berk's closest allies? _Please! _Bog's as far as you can get from Berk without hitting the open sea," Thuggory refuted the blonde pirate.

"I agree!" Dagur added, "Obviously it is _Berserk _who is Berk's closest allies. Hiccup's my brother, for Odin's sake!"

Cami, Thuggory, and Dagur immediately descended into a spirited argument about _whose treaties said this _and _whose treaties said that _and how Dagur was_ most certainly not related to Hiccup _and a whole dragon-load of other talking points. While the twins and Snotlout appeared completely drawn in by the useless debating, Astrid threw a sideways look to Heather and rolled her eyes possibly harder than she ever had before.

"I can't believe _this _is what we're discussing when there's a war to win," she grunted. Heather and Fishlegs more or less nodded in concurrence.

"That's these dolts for you. You think they'd notice if we just took off?" Heather wondered aloud, getting no answer from the quarreling Vikings taking up most of the table. Astrid shrugged and slid out of her seat, testing the waters and raising her eyebrows in surprise when no one bothered to turn her way and ask where she was going.

"I'd be alright with going, I-I don't really have much of a taste for this stuff, anyway," Fishlegs stammered. Heather was already getting up, and she smiled down at the husky Viking.

"Well, come on, Fishlegs. You don't have to stay if you don't want to," she said, and offered her hand to him. Fishlegs stared at her hand for a split-second as if it was some previously unknown dragon that required studying, and then took it, rising from his seat as well. The husky boy flashed a meek smile at Heather, which Astrid definitely took notice of. Heather had once shared that she liked Fishlegs as more than a friend, but the distance between them had prevented any sort of relationship from blossoming. Eventually, Fishlegs' sights had become wholly focused on pursuing Ruffnut instead. In this unusual reunion, Astrid could see that the spark still existed, whether they knew it or not.

Astrid signaled to Ruffnut that she was leaving, and the female twin nodded at her before returning to try and sneak a charcoal pencil into Tuffnut's ear canal while he was distracted. Not exactly the kind of thing that she wanted to see Ruff doing, but then again, it was hardly the most harmful prank she'd attempted on her brother. One time, she'd set his bed on fire while he was sleeping. One way or another, Tuff would be fine.

She briskly walked to the door after that, letting out a sigh of relief as Heather and Fishlegs tailed her, the latter mumbling conversationally with the pretty black-haired girl. No one else from the table called after them, thankfully. The idea of the relative silence outdoors was enormously relaxing compared to the noise of the crowded tavern.

It was dark outside when Astrid pushed the door open and stepped out, holding it open so that Heather and Fishlegs could exit behind her. As she'd hoped, it was blissfully quiet, the only sound being the buzz of dragons settling down for the night. Meatlug, Windshear, and Stormfly were gathered near the tavern with their other dragon friends, including Thuggory's dragon, a green Shockjaw named Boltbite. _**[1]**_

"So then where are you headed, Astrid?" Heather asked, snapping Astrid out of her brooding. Windshear and Meatlug noticed their companions and came wandering over.

Astrid shrugged. "Probably just back to Bertha's. I could use a night indoors with Hiccup." Stormfly perked up at the sound of Astrid's voice and immediately ambled over, squawking eagerly at her girl's return. A soft giggle escaped Astrid's lips and she reached up to scratch the Nadder's neck; the dragon purred as she leaned hard into her touch.

"Sounds romantic," Heather cooed, if only to tease Astrid as she stroked Windshear's scales. The blonde responded with a roll of her eyes.

"Please, he's definitely out cold already. I'm more concerned about where exactly Toothless is sleeping."

"I guess I'll be retiring, too. It's a little early for me, but I've got nothing better to do until the meeting," Heather said, resigned.

Fishlegs started spouting off in agreement, "It's getting to be Meatlug's bedtime. She's going to want all of her rituals done extra special tonight, she gets so nervous sleeping in an unfamiliar place." The husky boy caressed Meatlug's head, earning a lick from the loving Gronckle. Astrid glanced over at Heather and noticed her watching Fishlegs with interest, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Hey, if you two can squeeze it in…" Astrid spoke up. Fishlegs and Heather both looked at her, oblivious. That reinforced Astrid's desire to try and nudge them in the same direction. The interest was obviously there. "Cami told me the other day about this meadow in the woods pretty close to the cliffs. Something about lots of dragon nip growing there. Maybe you two check it out and pick some, that would help Meatlug settle down for the night, right?"

Fishlegs frowned. "Oh, I don't know, that sounds like a real hike, and I don't want Meatlug wearing herself out and getting hungry before she goes to sleep—"

The Gronckle nudged him, cutting him off. Meatlug's tongue lolled out from her mouth and she bustled about. Fishlegs brightened, "Well, I can't argue with that. If you're sure, girl, we can go have a look." Meatlug apparently approved of that idea and Windshear squawked softly at Heather. Maybe the two dragons were working together in a secret plot to get their riders together, too, Astrid thought.

Fishlegs met Heather's eyes, nervously glancing her up and down. He rubbed his large hands together anxiously. "Erm, Heather? Would… would you like to come with Meatlug and I to find this meadow?" an uneasy smile crept onto Fishlegs' face, hopeful and trying to stay awkwardly positive.

Windshear very obviously nudged her rider in the back, knocking Heather straight into Fishlegs. The husky boy startled and reached out to catch her, wrapping his arms around Heather's back to steady her. Heather groaned in annoyance at Windshear's antics, only to look up and find herself mere inches from Fishlegs. The realization rooted her to the spot, and recognizing that Heather was looking him in the eye seemed to spark something in Fishlegs that persuaded him to drop his arms and take a step back.

"My apologies," he blurted and averted his eyes.

Heather grinned. "No, no, Fishlegs. I think going to the meadow sounds nice. I'll promise not to get in yours and Meatlug's way," she said respectfully, but with a teasing glint in her eye.

Fishlegs blustered, "O-Oh, you won't be in the way, I—" he huffed and steeled his nerves, trying again in a calmer voice, "It'll be more fun having you there with us."

Astrid almost _squealed. _Fishlegs Ingerman was growing up right before her eyes, in his own awkward way. He and Heather were smiling like idiots. Astrid cleared her throat and the two instantly took an extra step back from each other, flustered.

"Well, you two have fun, I'm going to go get some sleep," she reiterated. Stormfly squawked as if to supplement her.

Heather nodded fervently, stammering as she found herself inexplicably thrown out of whack, suddenly a shadow of the steely young woman that she normally was. "Yeah. Okay. Great. Um—I'll see you at the strategy meeting tomorrow?"

"Count on it," Astrid promised. She turned on her heel and headed down the hill with Stormfly in tow, only to stiffen as Heather called out to her.

"Oh, Astrid! Wait up a sec," Astrid looked over her shoulder, turning completely around as Heather jogged over. She was halfway down the hill, out of earshot as Fishlegs waited patiently at the hill with Meatlug panting up a storm.

"What's up?"

"Just wanted to say," Heather said, lowering her voice to a hushed whisper that only Astrid could hear, "I'm sure you know what you're doing, but still, take care of that baby, you hear?"

Astrid's back went rigid. Her gaze darted over in Fishlegs' direction. Thankfully, he was busy doting on Meatlug, but Astrid did her best to correct her startled expression in case he turned around to look back at them. Knowing Fishlegs, he'd notice something was amiss and start asking questions.

Astrid put on the coyest look in her repertoire. "I'm sorry?" she said, and she impressed herself with how calm she thought she sounded.

"C'mon, I wasn't born yesterday," Heather said, "You can drink anyone under the table, even Snotlout. You're expecting me to believe you weren't going to seize the chance to get a pint of mead?"

Oh, Heather was perceptive. Part of Astrid wanted to applaud the Berserker woman for her shrewdness, but the stronger, more defensive part decided to reaffirm the ruse.

"You've got the wrong idea, Heather. I'm just not feeling it tonight," she said casually.

Heather smirked at her and it made Astrid want to rip her friend's hair from the roots. "Alright, whatever you say, Astrid. By the way, thanks for that back there. I owe you one." Heather flicked her eyes to the side to make it clear she was talking about Fishlegs.

Now Astrid found it in herself to smirk. "Owe me? Now you've gone and done it."

"We'll discuss the terms later," Heather quipped. She raised a hand and patted Astrid's shoulder reassuringly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Enjoy your date," Astrid said under her breath as Heather peeled away, and the black-haired woman waved behind her to say thanks before bolting back up the hill toward Fishlegs. Astrid remained where she was, watching as Windshear and Meatlug led the way in the opposite direction, giving their riders some space. She smirked as she saw how close Heather's and Fishlegs' fingers were. With a little luck, the two might make a real connection tonight and get Fishlegs' eyes off of Ruffnut.

Satisfied with herself, Astrid turned around and headed for Bertha's house with Stormfly in tow, already relaxing at the thought of getting to sleep in her husband's arms tonight.

* * *

Morning sunlight peeked through the open window, filling the loft with a warm glow. Astrid's ears filled with a low humming sound, and the lingering glare of sunlight reaching through her shut eyelids started to slowly force her awake. She coughed once, and blood seemed to rush away from her chest to every other part of her body, filling her with sudden life.

When she opened her eyes, she wasn't sure where she was for a moment. The wooden walls were so unfamiliar, and the bed so much smaller than the one she'd become used to back home. Part of that was because her husband was finally sleeping at her side again—a welcome change, even if it left her feeling a bit cramped.

The humming noise irritatingly persisted, seeming to bounce off the walls and directly into her ears as if targeting her specifically. Astrid leaned up, ruffling the furs covering her up to look around the small loft. Curled up on the floor and sound asleep was Toothless, the offending noise coming from his icily consistent breathing. The dragon's chest was rising and falling as he burrowed his flat head in between his legs for warmth. That was another thing she wasn't really used to—Toothless sleeping in their room with them.

"Good morning," Astrid's back seized as she almost leaped out of bed, only to calm as she recognized that it was Hiccup's voice speaking to her. She looked over her nearly bare shoulder at him, lying flat on his back and looking up at her with a wily smirk.

"Did I wake you?" she asked.

Hiccup yawned, which made Astrid yawn. Damn him. As he smacked his lips to chase the sleep away, he answered, his voice coming out all distorted here and there from a second yawn. "I've been kind of awake for a few minutes now… trying to will the world to go back to nighttime so I can get extra sleep."

"I don't think you've moved since you walked into this room. You didn't even flinch when I came in last night," Astrid recalled. Hiccup shrugged slowly, his naked shoulders peeking out from underneath the fur in the process.

"What can I say, I needed my rest."

"That you did," Astrid chuckled lightly. She laid her head back down on the pillow and shuffled closer to Hiccup, resting her head dangerously close to his. Underneath the furs, her hand found his.

"Though I will say that I'm used to getting up to the sounds of Terrible Terrors singing on the rooftops. Maybe that's why it's been tough waking up," Hiccup theorized, giving her a toothy smile.

"Maybe they just don't do that here."

"What a terrible way to live," said Hiccup. Astrid laughed under her breath with him for a minute, sighing as she came down and focusing on the green of his eyes. "You're so beautiful," Hiccup blurted out. He coiled his hand with hers and started to rub his fingertips against the back of her palm. With his other hand, he reached out to graze his fingertips against her blonde, sleep-tousled hair. The mere sensation of his combined touch was unnaturally tantalizing, giving life to a burn within her that fed her naughtiest thoughts.

"Careful," she said instead, though she was staving herself off just as much as she was him, "We do have that meeting to go to. And I don't think Bertha would appreciate any funny business happening under her roof."

"'Funny business'?" Hiccup half-mocked her, again laughing under his breath, "What are we, sixteen?"

Astrid shrugged, eager to throw a little shade right back in his face, "Well, you and your dragon sure act like it sometimes." Hiccup replied with a taunting gasp, and without warning, he started tickling her. Astrid recoiled and flipped over under the furs, which only succeeded in making it easier for Hiccup to grab her and tug her against him, playfully wrestling.

"You take that back!" he demanded, voice hushed and full to the brim with mirth.

"Never," Astrid teased. She snatched one of his arms and twisted, curling his hand and arm in an uncomfortable position. She knew that he hated that.

"Ow! Okay, okay, you win!" he complained, slapping the sleeping fur with his free hand. Astrid released her hold on him and smirked, proud. On the floor, there was a low moan and a black shape appeared in sight over the edge of the bed, closely followed by a pair of curious chartreuse eyes. Their commotion had woken Toothless.

"Morning, bud," Hiccup greeted brightly. Toothless reciprocated it, parting his lips in a smile with no teeth. He looked like he wanted to get up on the bed, but something—that something being Astrid's warning glare—held him back from doing so.

"I think he's telling us it's time to get out of bed," she suggested. Hiccup let out an exaggerated groan, like a sulky child that didn't want to go to lessons. Without another word, though, he yanked his side of the furs up and off of him, letting go of Astrid so that he could swing his legs out and stand up. Astrid mirrored him, sliding out from her side of the bed. Her nightgown, spun from white silk and as thin as could be, flowed all the way down to her feet. For a moment, she felt Hiccup's eyes on her back, but the sensation was gone almost as quickly as it had come.

They dressed themselves without a word, Toothless wandering back and forth across the room and begging for scratches. Astrid donned her crimson tunic, noticing not for the first time that she thought her breasts were starting to get bigger, if only slightly. Ruffnut had often mocked her in their later formative years for her 'tiny tits', but Astrid hadn't cared. Mostly. If only Ruffnut could see her now. Well, not yet. She still didn't want anyone besides Hiccup knowing. Ever since she'd heard from Gothi, she'd made sure to put on an extra layer in an effort to disguise what anyone (especially Ruffnut's oddly trained eye) might end up noticing. It wasn't the most comfortable way she'd ever dressed, but the weather had still been cold enough on Berk and in the north that she didn't get overheated.

With the tunic and an extra layer underneath pulled on, Astrid mounted her shoulder pads and slithered into one of her armored skirts, the same one she'd been wearing for days now. They hadn't exactly had time to pack during the retreat. She'd probably go find a creek later to wash her clothes in. Once her boots were on, she completed the outfit with her beloved furred hood, tugging at its ends absently until it fit just right.

Astrid took up a piece of reflective metal that she could see herself in and examined her blurred image in it, brushing individual locks of hair back and forth. Normally she wasn't _that _concerned about her appearance—she let everything else about her do the talking—but everyone was going to be at this meeting and Astrid felt that as the wife of the Acting Chief, she needed to try and look her best; both beautiful and ferocious.

Once everything was in order, she cast a passing glance at Hiccup and, noting that he seemed ready to go, she nodded and made her way toward the door. Before she could fasten her hand around the knob, though, Hiccup's soft voice reached her ears and rooted her in place.

"Hey, wait," he said softly, pausing with bated breath. Astrid cocked her head so she could see him out of her peripheral vision, and when he didn't so much as move, she turned all the way around to face him. He was wringing his hands together, looking terribly nervous.

Astrid tightened her lips into a thin line, and she stood limply, her fingers just barely brushing the smooth metal of her skirt. "Is everything okay?" she asked, forcing her hands to remain at her sides.

"Yeah," Hiccup answered quickly, which didn't really dispel Astrid's growing concern, "I've just been thinking about something, and I want your opinion first."

That helped Astrid relax, and she nodded positively. "Shoot," she said.

"It's about me being Chief. Whether Dad's alive out there or not, I'm going to be the Chief. There's no way around it. So, that means I need to be thinking about my advisors and their roles…" Hiccup explained, "I'm obviously going to keep the Berk Council together, but that doesn't necessarily solve everything. If Berk goes to war, they need someone to give out orders. Thor knows I'm no general."

Astrid shrugged absently, "That's why you have Spitelout, right? He _was _your dad's master of war; he can still do that for you."

Hiccup sported a clever smile, his emerald eyes positively gleaming like he was oh-so-proud of himself. "Yeah, but I had someone else in mind for the position."

"Who?" Astrid asked bluntly. Her brain was a muddled mess right now, and her confusion increased tenfold when Hiccup's face fell. His smile turned into a puzzled frown as he stared at her. "What?" she blurted out, demanding an answer.

"It's… taking you longer than I thought it would," Hiccup said. Astrid narrowed her eyes, mind racing as she scrutinized him.

And then it hit her like a Gronckle at high speed.

Oh. _Oh. _He wanted—she…

"You want me to be your master of war," she realized. Hiccup regained that big, beaming smile he'd just been sporting and nodded excitedly.

"Do, uh… do you accept?" he asked meekly.

Astrid scoffed, blurting out, "Of _course _I accept," and rushing Hiccup. They met in a fierce hug, both of them laughing. When they pulled away from one another, Astrid giggled to herself and spoke with a hint of crippling embarrassment. "I'm sorry I drew a blank there… I'm kind of turning food into a human here." She gestured to all of herself. "My brain's been a little fuzzier than I like it these days."

Hiccup smiled. "You don't have to apologize for anything. It's going to be an honor to work with you, General Haddock," his grin grew impossibly wider. Astrid matched his smile and tightly gripped his hand, proud.

"I'll do my best to make you proud, Chief," she replied, playing along.

Hiccup beamed again. "You've already done that ten times over, milady," he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, short and sweet. "Now, let's say we snag some breakfast and hustle over to the Great Hall. I do believe we are expected."

Together, they bustled down the steps from the loft to the main floor, finding Bertha's house empty. The Bog Burglar Chieftess and Camicazi must've already gotten up and left. Keen to not waste any more time, they each snatched a cut of warm bread and shuffled out the door, sights set on the Great Hall and thoughts turned to the impending war meeting behind its doors.

* * *

The war table was packed. Now that everyone that was necessary had arrived, it was time to truly devise a strategy for retaking Berk, and everyone that was needed had shown up and then some. Bertha and her closest advisors, Camicazi, the Berk Council, Dagur and Heather, Hiccup and Astrid, Valka, Eret, Mogadon and Thuggory, and Fishlegs had all found a place to stand, and overall everyone was practically standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Even Alvin, once Berk's greatest enemy, had answered the call, and he was perhaps as devoted to avenging Stoick than Hiccup himself.

"Alright, let's begin," Bertha insisted, "Hiccup, Astrid, will you start things off for us?"

Hiccup nodded and cleared his throat, stepping up so that he splayed his hands on the table. His gaze was fixated on the map's depiction of Berk and all the little pieces representing Drago's army that surrounded it.

"First off, thank you all, sincerely, for coming to our aid. It's times like these that you appreciate having allies," most everyone else at the table nodded their heads. Hiccup blinked and sucked in a preparatory breath, "Now, as far as Drago's army is concerned… As you can see on the map, Drago has an enormous collection of ships, soldiers, and dragons at his disposal. We don't have an accurate count. This is going to be the biggest enemy any of us have ever faced. With our forces combined, we _should _be able to match him in numbers, but I would expect to still be outnumbered. He's traveled far and wide to gather so many men, and they won't drop their weapons at the sight of a Viking army sailing in."

He looked at Astrid for support, and she gave it gladly, picking up where he was leaving off. "Drago means to subjugate us and take our dragons. He's spent years trapping and capturing as many as he could and putting them in chains, torturing them until they break. But he still needs a way to ensure their loyalty and also claim the loyalty of other dragons. He accomplishes this with the Bewilderbeast, an ancient Alpha species. Like I told Dagur and Heather, this thing is big. _Really _big."

"So, how d'we beat it?" Alvin asked, arms crossed over his chest. He was much like Stoick, very much a charge-headfirst-at-the-problem-and-hit-it-until-it's-fixed type of Viking, but considering that Berk's people had nearly been halved and relocated to Bog, even "the Treacherous" recognized that the old Viking Way wasn't going to apply here.

"We don't know," Hiccup replied, "But we do have one dragon on our side that has proven itself capable of resisting the Alpha: my mom's dragon, Cloudjumper." Valka gave a sheepish wave as people looked in her direction. "We believe she and him are the key to beating the Alpha, maybe even distracting it enough to prevent it from taking control of our own dragons."

"But we're not going to risk just going in dragons blazing, so here's what we've come up with instead," Astrid added. She reached out and touched the end of her finger to Berk, "First we'll split the armada up—half will sail close to Berk and drop anchor out of sight, half will pass the island by before coming back around and docking on the north side of the island where they won't be spotted. Everyone from those ships will get onto the island from the cliffs and take position in the woods. Once we're there, two small teams will move up and infiltrate the village. One team will sneak to the ships in our port, and the other will head for the prisons."

"Prisons?" Alvin drawled.

"We had people taken prisoner during our retreat, including, hopefully, my father. If he's alive, he should be there. Before everything goes down, I need to know," Hiccup explained, holding Alvin's stare. The Outcast Chief tensed and answered with an accepting nod.

Mogadon's brow furrowed and he interrupted with a deep rumble like a growling bear, his yellowed teeth peeking through his thick, unkempt beard. "What about this other group? What're we jumpin' on the ships for? Shouldn't we be focusin' on pressing our attack?"

Instead of Hiccup or Astrid, it was Eret who answered. The ex-trapper was up to date on the plan already and had been called upon by Bertha the other day to divulge everything he could tell her about Drago's army. After hearing his tale, Bertha had decided he'd earned his place at the table. "Our goal is to release as many enslaved dragons as we can to cut their numbers. I'll be leading the people in that team—I spent years trapping for Drago, so I know how he runs things. All of the army's dragons are kept in big, dome-like traps. The team that gets on the ships will be tasked with discreetly opening as many traps as they can and releasing the dragons inside."

Mogadon looked Eret up and down suspiciously. With narrowed eyes, he glanced at Hiccup with discontent. "Ye want to put one of Drago's lackeys on those ships? He could turn on us in an instant and expose your entire plan."

"He won't," Hiccup replied confidently, "I've been working with Eret for some time now and I know we can trust him." Not really a lie, he supposed.

Eret nodded fiercely and reached up to pull back his collar, revealing the gnarled flesh of his burn scars in order to prove Hiccup's point. "Drago did this to me. I'm looking forward to returning the favor. You can trust me, sir."

Mogadon scrutinized the burns marring Eret's chest until the trapper let go of his vest collar, letting the fur slide back up and cover all but the edge of the scar. With nothing more to look at, Mogadon met Eret's eyes again, and the large man combed a few stubby fingers through his wild facial hair, his stare burning into Eret's and searching for any sign of pretense.

"That's Chief to ya, but all right," the Meathead chieftain finally relented, "I'm gonna be watchin' you, trapper. My son'll go with your little team an' ensure that nothin' gets out of hand."

Thuggory balked, looking positively ruffled, "D-Dad, I mean, are you sure? This sounds like a serious stealth mission."

Mogadon scoffed, "Aye, it is. Anything that a mainlander can do, a Meathead can do. Remember yer training, and ye'll be fine," the Meathead Chief insisted.

"I—" Thuggory started, but Eret interrupted as Mogadon's stare shut his son down.

"I accept those terms, Chief. Your son will be in good hands, I swear it," Eret vowed. Mogadon nodded absently, his suspicion not entirely quelled but placated for now.

"Don't worry, Thugs, I'm coming with you lot, too," Camicazi piped up, grinning from ear to ear. She was dressed in light leather armor, three throwing knives pocketed in sheaths sown into the tunic's left shoulder for easy access. "Without us Bog Burglars, you'll be dead in the water opening those traps. Staging prison breaks is just one of our many talents. I'll get my best women together and throw our helmets in the ring. You'll want 'em."

Hiccup spoke up, eager to regain control of the meeting. "Excellent. Thank you, Cami. Back to the matter at hand—while the traps are being opened, the ships to the south of the island will make their approach, under the cover of groups of Smothering Smokebreaths. Do we have enough of those, Bertha?"

The Bog Burglar woman nodded firmly, "More than enough, Haddock. To Drago's men, it'll look like your usual sea fog rolling in."

Hiccup breathed a quick sigh of relief and nodded, thankful. "Excellent. Once the armada is close enough and we've freed as many dragons as we can, the approaching ships will open fire using the dragons on board to sink as many ships as we can. The element of surprise is going to be key, and once that distraction draws most of the men towards the port, everyone from the ships that docked near the woods will charge so that Drago's men are fighting a battle on two fronts."

"Paint 'em with fire. _Nice," _Dagur drawled, a mad grin pulling at his lips. The Berserker looked thrilled, the whole picture coming together in his crazed little mind.

"That's when Drago's dragons will come out. Drago will call for the Alpha the second he sees our dragons. The team on the ships will need to shoo away as many captured dragons as they can. That's where the army's strength is, and the more dragons that we can chase away from the fight, the more of an advantage we'll have. Once the battle begins, we need a few riders to go with my mom and Cloudjumper to attack the Alpha and keep it from intervening while we take care of business on the ground. If we press that attack and keep the Alpha preoccupied, we should have enough time to separate Drago from it and wrap things up."

"That's a lot of presumin' for a battle plan," Alvin said, his lower jaw jutting out deliberately. "What if we can't shoo away his dragons, or this Alpha beast thwarts your whole plan?"

"Those are chances that we have to take. We can't fight this kind of enemy with only our people, and Drago is the only one that the Alpha will listen to. We get to him, the battle's as good as won."

"Hmmm," Alvin hummed, thinking aloud. "I s'pose it's a better plan than anything yer father woulda come up with. Stoick, gods love him, he would want to rush in and crush these invaders over his knees. I'm not accustomed to fightin' in many other ways, but ya have the Outcasts' support, boy. This bastard'll go down for what he did, I'll make sure of it."

Hiccup nodded, accepting Alvin's pledge. Not for the first time, he was glad his father had mended fences with the Outcast Chief. The Viking formerly known as Alvin the Treacherous had proved himself to be an unwavering ally in the years following the Outcast War.

"Any other questions?" Hiccup asked, surveying the assembly around the table. Vikings exchanged silent looks with one another, debating with their eyes.

"Are you sure this'll work?" Thuggory asked.

Hiccup grimaced and wrung his hands together. "I'm not. But what other choice do we have? If we don't do this now, Drago will come for all of us, sooner rather than later."

He looked around the table again, wordlessly asking for any further questions. When none came, he cast a look at Astrid, willing himself to relax and finding himself unable to do so. "Alright," he managed, "Let's get started. We leave at sunset."

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**_[1] __A Shockjaw is a dragon species first introduced in the Dragons: Rise of Berk game. It is a Tidal Class dragon that can both fly and swim very fast and generates electrical blasts, much like the Skrill. I picked this dragon for Thuggory because I wanted a different type of dragon for him that could also give him some personality. His dragon in the book canon is a Monstrous Nightmare named Killer, and that just doesn't do it for me. Also, "Boltbite" is the name of a Shockjaw individual that appears in Rise of Berk, and I decided to keep it because it was too good of a name to only ever show up in a mobile game._**

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**As always, reviews of any kind are sincerely appreciated. I invite you all to make predictions on what's to come! It's certainly action-packed, that's for sure. Thanks for reading, and I'll see you all again next week.**


	21. Into the Inferno

**Surprise! I've been putting the finishing touches on the story, and since it's all but finished, I figured why not send in an early update? Everyone likes those. And I, it turns out, really like this chapter, specifically the latter half.**

**The story's final arc begins here, and there's a ton of action to come in the next few chapters alone. The one year anniversary of _Bound _is coming up, and depending on how some other things go, I may release the following 3 chapters a few days apart and have us all the way through Chapter 24 (the penultimate chapter) by the 13th, which is the anniversary date of _Bound_'s completion. We'll see though. Thanks so, so much to everyone who read and reviewed _Bound_ and has followed me along through _Ghosts_ to this point, I hope I can come to a conclusion that everyone loves.**

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_**21\. Into the Inferno**_

Hiccup stood on the bow of the lead ship, a host of dragons and Vikings cluttering the deck. Astrid stood by his side as she often did, surveilling the waves with narrowed eyes as the moon watched over them from above. Camicazi balanced precariously on the rim of the deck near them, leaning against the dragon-shaped figurehead and peering through a spyglass in order to scope out any potential trouble. Several dragons either populated the decks alongside their Viking friends or flew gingerly nearby, low to the surface of the sea and out of sight. High up and behind the ships, Valka was leading the remaining bulk of their dragon force, keeping them all in one place where they'd be comfortable. It was eerily quiet on the water, the tension an intense, palpable thing.

They'd left Bog as soon as humanly possible on account of the distance. The other Chiefs had departed as soon as the meeting was over to return to their islands with speed. Terror Mail had been sent beforehand to call for the other tribes to mobilize their forces and rendezvous at the Steppingstones at midnight, except for the Meatheads, who would be sailing in from the north and meet up with the advance team infiltrating the island from the forests. Thuggory had stayed behind, on account of his responsibility to board some of Drago's ships and free captured dragons.

"It's nearly midnight," Astrid said, her gaze turned towards the moon. It was just a few nights from being full now, and the sky was devoid of clouds, offering a strong source of light to sail by.

"Let's hope someone's already there," Hiccup answered.

"It would be our luck to be the only ones to show up on time, wouldn't it?" Cami chimed in from where she was standing. She played with her spyglass and the gold rings on her fingers that she'd probably stolen at some point in the past. The sea breeze had her wild blonde hair blowing behind her head, making her look almost beautiful in a troublesome kind of way.

A thunderclap of air split the night in two as a large dragon slithered into place beside the ship, four wings folded close to its body. Valka pulled her helmet up over her head, revealing her face underneath.

Hiccup waded over to the edge of the deck, setting his hands on the rim and leaning forward. "How are the dragons doing?"

"Fine, if a bit antsy," Valka reported. "I noticed a few ships on the horizon from up there. I can't quite make them out."

"Maybe it's the Outcasts or Berserkers. They had the shortest flights home," Astrid pointed out.

"They didn't look like your typical Viking longboats to me, I'm afraid," Valka added, lips turned in a slight frown. They'd received word about smaller ships of Drago's stalking the waters of the archipelago, steering clear of inhabited islands but encroaching all the same. Hiccup suspected that Drago wanted to find him before he moved onto other lands. Perhaps he'd made an impression on the warlord, to warrant such tenacious attention.

"I'll keep an eye out. We're getting close," Camicazi offered, wrapping an arm around the longship's figurehead to keep herself steady as a harsh wind picked up.

"If it is Drago, we'll handle it. Just focus on keeping the dragons under control," Hiccup said. He hoped Drago or his men were nowhere _near _them, of course. Valka nodded and closed her helmet back over her head, and with a gentle tug she guided Cloudjumper back into the air and toward the horde of dragons tailing the fleet.

"Maybe Dagur has some special ships in the armada," Hiccup suggested. One look at the two ladies nearby earned him a pair of flat, unconvinced expressions. "Unlikely, I know. Let's just not blow our cover if it _is _Drago. It can't be that many ships."

They sailed further along until the islands and the bodies of the ships became visible. Valka's vantage point from the air had been significant, and she hadn't been lying, either. Camicazi opened her spyglass and looked through it, cranking the small wheel around the lens to improve the focus as the ships drew closer. She recognized the longships with the Berserker crests painted on their sails, but the larger vessels they surrounded were definitely not from Berserk. She noticed a metal trap on one of them and knew what she was looking at.

"Alright, kids, I've got good news and bad news," she called out, holding her spyglass up close to her eye, "The good news is there's a couple of Berserker ships up ahead. The bad news is, there's three of Drago's ships up there with 'em, and I'm not seeing any sort of battle going on." Cami lowered her spyglass and flipped it to Hiccup, who caught it in one hand. "See for yourself."

Hiccup peered through the spyglass, seeing the figures of the ships that Cami had pointed out. At least a dozen longships were cluttered in and around the Steppingstone islands, their Skrill-emblazoned sails proudly unfurled. But sitting much too close to them, larger and bulkier than the long Vikings vessels, were three ships bearing some of the crests of Drago's army, each of them powered by two great sails mounted on two separate masts.

"Oh, this could be bad," Hiccup muttered as he lowered the spyglass. "Get the others. Tell them to bring their dragons," Hiccup said to Astrid. She nodded and took off across the deck, flaxen hair billowing in the wind behind her, and Hiccup passed the spyglass back to Cami.

"What're you going to do?" Cami asked, closing the tool completely and placing it on a hook along her belt.

Hiccup shrugged. "Probably something stupid."

Cami snickered and jumped down from the figurehead back onto the deck, tossing her wild hair back as her boots clattered onto the wood. "Count me in, then."

Astrid was already powering back toward them with Fishlegs, Snotlout, and the twins in tow, their dragons likewise at their heels. Fishlegs, for one, looked noticeably panicked.

"Astrid said the Berserkers ran into Drago? Do you think it's Dagur and Heather?" Fishlegs asked, his large hands tightly clasped together. He had a sword sheathed at his side that looked out-of-place. Meatlug whined at the idea, taking on her rider's worry.

Snotlout scoffed, "Calm down, Fishface," the black-haired Viking blustered. He leaned into Ruffnut, resting his arm on her shoulder and flashing a flirty smile. "See that? I would never be that scared if I didn't know where you were. A girl like you can take care of herself."

Ruffnut matched Snotlout's smile with a patronizing, falsely supportive grin. "For once, Snotlout, you're so right." Snotlout half-shrugged, as if to humbly brush off the praise or say something along the lines of _well, of course. _But without warning, Ruffnut shoved Snotlout off of her, sticking her foot out to trip him up as she pushed. The move worked to perfection and Snotlout plummeted face-first into the deck, a short yelp cut off by the hard _smack _of his body against wood.

Tuffnut snickered relentlessly at that, nudging his sister approvingly before squatting down to belittle his unfortunate friend. "Ha—you got served," the male Thorston chirped, earning a loathsome glare from Snotlout.

"Stay focused, please," Hiccup grimaced, eager to tackle the more serious matter. He looked to Fishlegs and frowned, motioning for Toothless to come as he answered the larger Viking's question. "There's only one way to find out, Fish. Everyone ready?"

The twins clambered up onto Barf and Belch, and Snotlout returned to his feet so he could run over and mount Hookfang. As Fishlegs climbed atop Meatlug's back, Camicazi whistled to signal Thatch, smiling as the Changewing hustled over from another longboat to come to her aid. Astrid mounted Stormfly and Hiccup swung into Toothless' saddle, and as one, the riders launched into the air, rocking the longboat a little from the sudden takeoff.

"Before I blindly go into whatever this is, do we have an actual plan?" Astrid asked over the wind.

"Find out what's going on if we can, and attack if necessary," Hiccup answered sharply, fighting back a rush of anger as he focused on the intruding ships from Drago's army. They closed in on the islands much faster than the fleet behind them could've managed, and as soon as they began to fly overhead, Hiccup and Astrid were scanning the deck of the largest ship. There were a handful of soldiers, and from the looks of it, a solid number of prisoners tied up near the masts.

"Looks like it's just a skeleton crew," Hiccup observed, "Alright, gang, let's do what we do. Hold your fire until we're attacked first. If they don't surrender, we'll send these ships sinking to the bottom of the sea."

"You got it, boss!" Tuffnut hooted, and as a unit the cluster of dragons corkscrewed and dove at the ships below. The signature scream of wind that signaled a descending Night Fury rippled through the night from the middle of the formation, and as they got close, Hiccup heard the scattered shouts of the crewmen on board.

The largest, heaviest dragons landed first—Hookfang, Meatlug, and Thatch slammed into the deck and their riders leaped from their saddles, brandishing their weapons at the armored soldiers. Stormfly and the twins landed next, and Toothless landed fearlessly in the center of it all. Hiccup launched off the Night Fury's back and ignited Inferno, holding the blazing blade in two hands as he stared down one of Drago's men armored from head to toe. The soldier stiffened and held his hands out, ejaculating a string of cries that Hiccup understood perfectly.

He found himself momentarily paused by the fact that the soldier spoke Norse, and his eyes wandered to the group of prisoners tied up and seated together beneath one of the ship's masts. At least a dozen men were bound, and not one of them possessed the typical pale skin or common blonde hair seen in so many inhabitants of the archipelago—a statistical improbability.

Hiccup narrowed his eyes at the armored soldier standing before him, who had still not moved for his weapon. That was strange. Hiccup glanced at the prisoners again, stunned that he couldn't recognize any of them. Usually there were some signs that tipped off what tribe they belonged to, or something, but…

"Brother!" an unmistakable voice called out, an ululation of glee. Hiccup whirled around and found himself looking up the nearby steps to where the ship's steering wheel was mounted, where Dagur was standing in all his glory, sporting the black armor of Drago Bludvist. The Berserker Chief cackled. "You can put down the weapons, everyone—unless I missed the part where our tribes were at war again, in which case, by all means, keep them drawn!"

"Dagur?" Hiccup blurted out. Everyone else seemed equally confused, exchanging looks between the crewmen and Dagur's new set of armor. "What's going on?" Hiccup added, and as he did, many of the soldiers acting as the crew started to remove their helmets, revealing themselves to be other Berserkers.

"Isn't it obvious, brother? This _beauty _of a ship now belongs to us!" Dagur boasted, grinning from ear to ear. "We caught these fellows on our way here sailing a bit too close to Berserker waters, so naturally, I attacked. Just as I thought, these men are _pathetic _at fighting. After we took the ships, I got to thinking, what if we could use these babies to our advantage?"

"_Actually, _that was my idea," a second voice corrected him. A second, nimbler figure shuffled into view from the back of the ship, yanking off her helmet to let her black hair flow free. Heather tucked the helmet under her arm and grinned down at her friends, and Dagur groaned in defeat.

"Alright, fine, it was my genius sister who came up with this idea, I admit it," Dagur whined, earning a smirk from Heather.

Fishlegs was not in the least concerned with Dagur's rambling, and upon seeing Heather, he blurted out, "Heather? Thank the gods, I—_we _were worried!"

Heather smiled sheepishly, offering a meek wave at the large boy. "Hi, Fishlegs. And hi, everyone else. Sorry for the scare."

Hiccup lowered his sword and the blade slid back into the hilt, extinguishing its flames in doing so. "No apologies needed," he assured her, "I'm just glad everyone's alright. Where's the rest of the armada?"

"On its way," Heather replied, "After we took these ships, we thought we'd get here early and make sure no one spoiled the party. Seems like it was the right call."

Hiccup nodded. "Yeah, looks like it. So, what's this idea about using these ships to our advantage I'm hearing about?"

"I'm glad you asked, brother!" Dagur hooted, and he lifted himself over the railing to drop a good ten feet from the upper deck. Once his feet hit the wood, Dagur bounded over to Hiccup and curled his arm around his neck, leading Hiccup toward one of the prisoner groups assembled by the mast. Glaring at them was a stocky man with tanned skin, his arms tied tight to his sides and his legs bound up so that he couldn't move.

"Allow me to introduce you to the captain of this ship," Dagur sniggered, grinning wildly the whole time, "Captain, would you be so kind as to tell my brother what you told me?" Dagur's tone posited that his request was really a demand. The captain glared at Dagur defiantly, but their staring match was short-lived, and the foreigner dropped his head before looking up again and meeting Hiccup's eyes.

"Orders… search… dragons," the captain mumbled in severely broken Norse. He shifted against his bonds, to no avail. "Kill Vikings…" the man added.

Hiccup leaned forward, placing his hands on his hips. "Are there others out here?" he asked. The captain shook his head.

"Only… ones."

"I don't think we can trust him," Dagur said instantly, crossing his arms and staring at the captain.

"I don't think so, either, but we have to focus on the plan. Drago is expecting us to come back—which means he'll want to keep as much of his army on Berk as he can. If there are more out here after all, they'll have sailed in different directions and we shouldn't have to worry about them," Hiccup said, "Now, what's this idea?"

Dagur smiled like a child on Snoggletog again, and he lifted a hand to rest on Hiccup's shoulder. "These ships left Berk—they have to come back eventually, right? Heather and I propose that we stuff our very gracious prisoners here below decks so that they can't make a peep and fill the rest of the space with our dragons so that they can't be seen. Then, we sail back to Berk and fit right in with Drago's army, disguising ourselves in the armor we took from his actual men…"

"And then attack from within," Hiccup realized, "The dragons open fire and we sink as many ships as we can. It's the perfect trick!"

Dagur beamed. "Exactly! You're too smart for your own good, you know that, brother?" the wild Viking whooped.

"I've certainly heard so before," Hiccup offered, suddenly wincing as Dagur clapped him on the back and nearly knocked him to the deck. The crazed Chief turned to the rest of the ship and raised his hands, summoning a truly berserk yell from the depths of his lungs.

"Berserkers!" Dagur hollered, garnering the eyes and ears of all of his people that he'd brought aboard. "Escort our new friends into the belly of this magnificent ship and gag them!"

Immediately, the Berserkers on board went to work, yanking prisoners to their feet by the ropes and dragging them along. Snotlout and Tuffnut eagerly jumped in to help. As they were being towed towards a wooden staircase leading below the deck, Drago's men snarled obscenities at their Viking captors, some of them earning a few good licks to the head as a reward.

Astrid strode over, resting her hands on her hips purposefully as the prisoners were hauled out of sight. "So, change of plans?" she asked, though she really knew the answer.

"Slightly," Hiccup replied. He gestured to the large ship they were standing on, and then to the other two nearby. "These are Plan B."

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"Plan B" spread like wildfire.

The captured ships became a flurry of movement over the next hour. The remainder of the Berserker Armada quickly arrived, and Astrid sent out riders in different directions to receive the other allied tribes and inform them of the situation. It was decided that the team that was originally tasked to infiltrate the port from the forests would instead all ride on the stolen ships into the heart of Drago's fleet—the approach would be infinitely stealthier, and they wouldn't need to do their job without necessarily being seen, the stolen armor allowing them to blend in.

Just after midnight, the entire Viking armada was assembled, with the addition of a couple of Drago's ships. The port team; made up of Thuggory, Eret, Camicazi, and several other volunteers manned the stolen ships, completely covered in armor lifted from Drago's men, who had all been safely cooped up below decks alongside a horde of hostile dragons. Hiccup was sure that they were quaking with fear behind their gags and blindfolds, and part of him took a dark joy in that. To him, those men deserved worse than being surrounded by dragons that may or may not be hungry.

Hiccup strolled down the deck with Toothless at his side, ready to glide off of the large ship and back to one of his own boats. At the prow of the ship, Eret was standing with his helmet off, silently staring in the rough direction of Berk. His black hair was tucked into the collar of the armor so that he could easily wear and remove the stolen helmet. Hiccup marched up beside the ex-trapper, settling silently a few feet from him and just watching like Eret was, as if they were looking out for an impending storm.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Hiccup finally asked, careful not to speak too loudly.

Eret nodded slowly. "I am. It's time I get Drago back for everything he's done. Everyone he's hurt."

Hiccup took in a deep breath and exhaled, glancing down at his boots and scraping his feet on the ship's clean deck. "Thank you for doing this. For everything that you've done for us. Astrid and I wouldn't be here now if not for you."

"I think I'm the one who should be thanking you," Eret replied, turning his head and appraising Hiccup seriously now. Eret wore a hard look, tense but determined. "It's been a tough, painful few weeks. I've lost the only people I've ever cared about because of you. My crew was my family."

Hiccup's throat instantly dried up, like a desert yearning for rain. He gulped and it somehow hurt, finding himself completely at a loss for words. He tried his best to muster a response. "Um, I…"

"But now I have new people to care about. I care about you, and Astrid, and your friends. I care about Thorönd. I miss my crew more than I ever thought I'd miss anyone, and yet somehow, I know they'd be proud of me. Most of them anyway," Eret reflected. Hiccup relaxed his shoulders only slightly, his heart panging with guilt. Eret puffed out his chest, his features now a model of determination, "No matter what, I can always keep fighting to remember them, as long as I'm still breathing. And I intend to do that."

Hiccup nodded. "I'm really grateful for you, Eret. I'm sorry about what happened to your crew. They didn't deserve it. When this is over, they'll get funerals befitting those of our people. I'll make sure that their names aren't forgotten."

Eret's eyes widened in surprise at the show of generosity. "I… I can't accept—"

"You can, and you will," Hiccup interjected, smiling but still remaining firm. "You're one of us now, Eret. It is the very least that I can do." Toothless warbled in agreement, urging Eret to accept.

Eret held his gaze for a long moment and then nodded solemnly. "Thank you," he said, and Hiccup raised a hand to clasp the former trapper's shoulder. He pivoted on his right foot and started padding away. Eret's voice stopped him as he was halfway down the steps to put him back on the deck.

"If something happens to me," Eret blurted out, pausing until Hiccup turned his head slightly to show that he was listening. Eret drew his bottom lip into his mouth, wetting it and taking a preparatory breath before continuing, "If something goes wrong, take care of Thorönd for me." The Thunderdrum was riding on one of the other ships, unable to blast fire and therefore incapable of helping with the plan to infiltrate Drago's fleet. The sea dragon would find his place when all Hel broke loose, hopefully reuniting with Eret to take part in the battle.

"I will. I promise," Hiccup assured him, and then he resumed walking down the steps, leaving Eret to his thoughts. Once he was halfway across the deck, he raised his voice. "Let's get going! We only have a few more hours of darkness left!" The call carried from Viking to Viking on board, and then from ship to ship.

"_Set sail!"_

"_You heard the man!"_

"_Reel in the anchors!"_

"C'mon bud," Hiccup said, setting his right foot in the stirrup and swinging his body up and over Toothless' back. He wriggled in the saddle to get comfortable and then opened Toothless' tailfin, lifting off of the deck and heading to the longship he'd be riding on with Astrid and a few others. Toothless easily glided the short distance and Hiccup swung off as soon as the Night Fury landed on the boat.

The sails on Drago's ships unrolled and they started to drift northward, taking in the wind and slithering ahead of the armada. Once the stolen ships were far enough ahead, the rest of the armada started tailing them, keeping a safe distance. Fog stirred up above the sea as it grew even colder, which would lend even more help to them when the Smokebreaths started creating their own fog to go with it.

So far, everything was going right.

* * *

Astrid kneeled over the bucket of paint, gently wiping the pads of her index finger near her eyes. She left behind two ashen streaks that colored in her lower eyelids, the war paint making her look more menacing. The coming battle was a fight for survival, a fight for everything she believed in, and she wanted to look the part, if nothing else. A few others had painted themselves, but not all, and she was content being in the minority.

She rose to her feet once she was done painting, having added two soot-grey stripes striking across her temples and down to meet her ears. Her axe was strapped to her back, gingerly covered by a clean cloth to protect its blade from the salt. Her flaxen hair was bound in a tight braid that would keep the locks from flying every which way as she fought. Cleaning blood out of her hair was neither easy nor fun.

The longship rocked on the waves as they sailed, the edge of Berk visible in the distance to the east. They'd separated from the rest of the fleet nearly an hour ago and were headed to link up with the Meathead warband, who had been alerted of the change in plans beforehand by the riders Astrid had sent. Their target was the cliffs separating the western woods from the seas, where the Meathead fleet would be waiting. The new plan was in place, and as far as anyone could tell, they hadn't been spotted. No bells or horns had erupted from the village. She hoped it stayed that way—this wasn't a conventional plan.

Then again, nothing about her husband was conventional. Not that that bothered her—in fact, quite the opposite. Hiccup was brilliant, and Astrid believed in him more than she could say. Still, she could see the tension in his shoulders from across the deck. He refused to leave the bow, insistent on watching everything that he could.

She walked up to stand beside him, staring. He felt her gaze and turned his head to meet her eyes, but they said nothing. There wasn't anything to be said. They were going to come out of this alive and be able to say everything they wanted to say from this point on. Astrid had to believe that.

Eventually, the longships passed the island in the distance and changed course, sailing near the north side of Berk completely out of sight. The cliffs were looming over them soon enough, their moonlit shadows cutting a swath through the dark sea. Hiding in their wake were more than thirty Meathead ships. Their own vessels, only eight in number but packed with people and dragons sent their anchors plummeting into the sea, sliding down, down, down until they finally found purchase in the shallows. Everything fell deathly silent; the sea waves making the only noise as they slapped against the cliffs where they met the water.

"Okay, everyone," Hiccup started, the first words he'd said in almost two hours. He was careful not to shout and cause his voice to carry. "Get on your dragons and let's head to the cliffs. Make sure to keep quiet," Hiccup hissed, and the word spread like lightning across the other ships. Riders climbed into their saddles and the boats rocked with their motion, bobbing in the restless ocean around them. Astrid crawled onto Stormfly, clasping her fingers around the saddle's handlebars and checking absently to make sure her axe was still in its place.

The takeoff was easy, and the dragon horde calmly carried the Vikings from the anchored ships to the tops of the cliffs, one of the most elevated points on Berk that wasn't Raven Point. There wasn't a soul to be seen or heard. Drago and his foreigners likely hadn't come this far from the village. The area was a strategic liability, especially when the enemy had dragons, and was an easy access point onto the island. That was their advantage; the coming battle was to be fought in their home arena.

Astrid landed next to Hiccup, followed by Heather, Fishlegs, and Snotlout. The twins had been left behind with Dagur and the other chiefs in the portion of the fleet waiting to approach under the Smokebreaths' cover, while Camicazi, Eret, Thuggory were riding on the stolen ships, disguised as Drago's men returning from scouting. Things were shaping up nicely.

Their portion of the army eventually gathered on the cliffs, silent as a couple of sneaky Terrors. Their numbers weren't _that _impressive; the true bulk of the force was in the Smokebreaths' ships. Hiccup's job was to simply get in and out of the prisons to check for his people and then return to the forests, waiting for the right time to join the attack and split Drago's forces.

Next, the Meathead force rose from their ships nearby and flew to the cliffs. Their numbers were greater, and at the head of the pack was Mogadon, sitting atop his great Monstrous Nightmare, a dragon he'd so lovingly named Killer_. _The hefty Meathead Chief landed close by and dismounted in a shimmering shower of steel and leather, armed to the teeth.

"Mogadon," Hiccup greeted.

"Hiccup."

"Are your people ready?"

Mogadon nodded curtly, digging a hand through his absurdly thick beard. "Aye. Followin' your lead, sonny." Hiccup nodded appreciatively.

Toothless warbled at him as the group amassed, cluttering the bluffs like they'd never been before. Hiccup smiled and lifted a hand to touch the Night Fury's nose. "I know, bud. Let's get moving. Tell the dragons to hang back and keep it down." Toothless accepted the task with dedication, bounding over as carefully as he could and nudging through clusters of Vikings to address his fellow dragons.

"Everyone else, follow us," Hiccup said, "Stay low, and be on the lookout for anything."

"And take care where you tread," Astrid added, "The dark hides all kinds of pitfalls. If we make too much noise, we'll be screwed." Hiccup nodded at her, grateful. She was right, after all. She wasn't the first person to have tripped in a rut in the ground in these woods. There was a reason she never trained on this side of the island.

"Yeah, what she said," Snotlout hissed, in a lame attempt to sound in control. Other than that, he looked unusually serious, his fingers flexing by the handle of his hammer and his eyes dashing back and forth as if the enemy would come charging out to attack them at any point.

It was admirable, at least.

Without any more time to dawdle, the group waded through the darkened forest, taking great care not to rustle the bushes on their way converging towards the village. More than a hundred Vikings crept on, a similar number of dragons bringing up the rear. Toothless stayed closer to Hiccup, and Stormfly to Astrid, loyal and protective to a fault. Mogadon tailed close behind, one hand on the shaft of his enormous battle-axe as he looked suspiciously around. The Meathead Chief's blood seemed to boil with pent-up fury, thirsting for the revenge he'd been denied for more than ten years.

Eventually, Astrid saw the torches in the distance, marking the end of their trek. The forest buzzed with the noise of various hidden insects, concealing the sounds of their approach. Astrid breathed and pushed through some foliage, suddenly feeling the dried war paint on her skin as she kneeled down at the forest's edge to observe. She reached over and stripped the cloth from her axe blade, freeing the clean steel at last and relishing as the blade seemed to sing.

_Gods protect us, _she sent a silent prayer, sure that they were watching above her and listening. Her father was a devout man, instilling in her a similarly unshakeable faith from a young age. On the seas and winds, she felt Njord. In fire, she felt Freya. In the pouring rain and pounding thunder, she felt Thor more than anything. She'd never lost her grip on them, and never would.

Ingvar Hofferson had always told her that Asgard protected its heroes, safeguarded them. And while she didn't think herself so fortunate, she knew in her bones that Drago Bludvist was no champion in the eyes of the gods.

He would fall this day. Of that, she was certain.

* * *

He was tense all the way, waiting for something to go wrong, because something seemingly always did. It felt like hours that they'd been walking, and still nothing came. No warning cry from one of the dragons bringing up the rear. No snap of twigs in the distance giving away any stalking enemies. Nothing but chirping insects and the almost-overwhelming weight of what was coming on his shoulders until they finally came upon the village.

A few torches were lit at certain houses throughout the town. A few soldiers lazily patrolled the grounds, meandering up and down the streets. Hiccup and the others were far from their sight; they'd reached the break in the trees very close to the Great Hall, and its shadow made it even harder for them to be seen. The door to the prisons was close, with the cells built beneath the Great Hall long ago in an effort to maximize space. Hiccup remembered his stay in those cells five years ago, after his and Astrid's disastrous attempt to show Berk the truth about dragons during her final exam.

Hiccup shook his head to dispel the thoughts. He needed to focus. He took another look into the town, watching and waiting as he soaked in what he saw. It appeared that Drago's men had made themselves at home in the village, taking up residence in whatever houses they pleased. He wondered if they'd been looted beforehand, stripped of possessions and trinkets deemed valuable by Drago's invaders.

Then he looked up and over the town and his breath hitched in his throat. Watching the village from the top of the hill near the harbor was his father's house, and its lanterns were lit out front. Someone had decided to quarter themselves in the house of the Chief, and that felt like the ultimate form of disrespect. Probably Drago and his generals. The idea made Hiccup's blood boil-how _dare _they-but again he forced himself to cool.

"Your dad's house," Astrid whispered, seeing the same thing he saw.

"I know," Hiccup said through gritted teeth. "We don't have time to get up in arms. Let's get started."

Astrid nodded and disappeared again into the undergrowth, returning with Heather, Fishlegs, and a few others mixed in from their allies. Toothless and Stormfly huddled close to the group, and Hiccup thought he saw the telltale shine of Windshear's scales not too far away.

"Toothless, I need you to stay with everyone else. Protect them for me, okay, bud?" Hiccup asked, nuzzling against the Night Fury. Toothless warbled anxiously at the thought of separation. "I know, I know. I'll be fine. I've got Astrid to protect me in there, right?"

Toothless glanced over at Astrid with citrine eyes, blinking warmly as he examined the blonde warrior, second only to Hiccup in his heart. The dragon let out another warble and nudged into Astrid's stomach gently, a slight gesture that Hiccup took to mean _bring him back in one piece, please?_

"Don't you worry about us, Toothless," Astrid assured the Night Fury, and she placed a soft hand on his muzzle, smiling as the black dragon shut his eyes and exhaled, his narrow nostrils expanding to let the air out. When he reopened his eyes, Toothless snorted under his breath and then retreated into the darkness, dutifully heading to his task.

"Please be careful in there," Fishlegs' voice squeaked, and Hiccup turned his head to reply. He stopped, though, when he realized that Fishlegs wasn't speaking to him. The husky boy was crouched behind the undergrowth, like all of them, and he was gingerly holding both of Heather's hands in his. Heather was wearing a smile.

"I promise I will, if you promise to watch over everyone while I'm gone. Think you can do that?" Heather asked, voice sweet and soft. Fishlegs nodded anxiously, and then Heather leaned forward to peck him on the cheek, pulling away as fast as she had moved toward him.

Snotlout had found his way into the group, probably for no other reason but to make sure he knew when they left and came back, but like Hiccup and Astrid, he'd found himself looking at Heather and Fishlegs interacting, and Heather kissing Fish on the cheek had sent Snotlout's jaw to the ground. There was a good chance the only reason he'd remained quiet was because he knew if he _didn't,_ they'd all be sent on a one-way trip to Valhalla.

Without another word, Fishlegs shuffled away, avoiding the gaze of everyone who might've seen what had just happened, and then Heather pivoted around to face the village. She felt everyone's eyes on her, especially Hiccup's, and craned her neck to look at them all. Her left eye twitched.

"What?" Heather whispered. Hiccup blinked about six times to recover his composure and then accosted Astrid with a look. She shrugged.

"I'll tell you later," she offered, and Hiccup turned to look back into the village. That was fair. They returned to watching the patrols, and once there was an obvious gap in the groups shuffling through the streets, Hiccup and the others ducked out of the bushes and scampered to the door beneath the Great Hall that led to the prisons. There was no guard posted outside, so it stood to reason there would be a few inside.

The team, only half a dozen strong, braced their backs against the thick stone. The adjacent door leading into the prisons was built into the side of the enormous building, and as long as they remained close, the shadow of the Great Hall would cover them.

"Alright, the three of us are going in. You girls ready?" Hiccup whispered. Astrid and Heather nodded, as if to tell him that they were ready and impatient to get in and out.

"Oi, sonny. Yer not going in there without me," Mogadon grunted.

Hiccup held the Meathead Chief in his gaze for a few seconds before deciding to consent and nodding. He steadied himself with a breath and nodded before turning his attention to the other two men that had followed them over.

"Alright. You two, stay out here and keep an eye out. If someone starts coming too close, open the door a bit and whistle the signal. If it comes to it, leave us behind. We can take care of ourselves," The other two Vikings, nameless faces from the Meathead tribe, nodded in unison.

Hiccup psyched himself up with a few preparatory breaths. He hoped whatever he found inside wouldn't crush him. He hoped there were living, breathing bodies inside, and he hoped that one of those warm bodies was his father's. One way or another, he was about to find out and put his questions to rest.

"Okay. Go," he said. One of the Vikings he didn't know fastened his hand around the doorknob and carefully slid the door open, creating a gap just wide enough for Hiccup and the others to squeeze through without making a sound. Astrid slithered in first, then Heather, and then he slipped in ahead of Mogadon, the chieftain's hefty body just barely managing to slide through without a sound. The door closed behind them, and Hiccup's field of vision instantly shrank, but two torches lit at their end of the corridor gave him just enough light to see by.

Sitting right there at the table were three guards, helmets off and bits of their armor removed, probably for comfort. They were also all awake.

The one that saw them first was directly facing them. His hair was red and had been shaved almost to the scalp, no facial hair to speak of, and his forehead was marked with an unusual tattoo of some sort of creature twisting in on itself. The foreigner flinched, uttering a startled _"What—" _before Astrid and Heather were on his two friends, brandishing their axes and clobbering them in their unprotected heads with the pommels. The guard who had seen them reached for his sword, but Hiccup raced at him and vaulted over the table, crashing with the full force of his weight against the man.

The guard hadn't been expecting the move and staggered back as Hiccup collided with him, collapsing to the floor. He gave a vicious snarl and tried to scramble back to his feet, but his fall had created just enough of a lapse in judgment for Astrid to appear at his side and smack him in the head with the flat of her axe, likewise knocking him out where he lay.

"Thanks," Hiccup breathed, relaxed. Astrid nudged him on the shoulder in response.

"Don't mention it."

That was when the whispering trickled into Hiccup's ears. The corridor teemed with hushed muttering, questions flying back and forth. Hiccup and Astrid exchanged a knowing look. _Prisoners. _Without wasting another second, they bolted around the corner from the table and into the jailhouse's corridor. Heather followed, snatching a lit torch from the wall and holding it over her head. The firelight illuminated the end of the hallway, reflecting off of the various cells that lined the walls. Vikings crept up to the doors of their cells, looking through to see their rescuers.

"_It's Hiccup!" _someone hissed.

"_And Astrid too!"_

"_We're saved!"_

Hiccup scampered forward desperately, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. "Where's my dad? Is he here?" he stammered, looking back and forth between the cells holding his people. "Is he alright?" he begged.

After a second of pause, someone that he couldn't see wheezed his name. "Hiccup?" the noise came. Hiccup's ears twitched at the sound and he looked down the hall. With a bated breath, he powered past the cells toward the hall, calling out for Stoick under his breath.

"Dad? Dad?" he hissed, "Dad, are you here?"

He turned his head to look through one of the dark cells, and what he saw caused him to plant his feet and stop in his tracks. He very nearly stumbled at the sudden move, and immediately he pressed himself up against the bars. In the corner of the cell was a huddled mass, only visible thanks to a vestige of light from Heather's torch down the hall from him.

"Hiccup?" the voice came slowly in askance, and Hiccup's blood pressure spiked. He couldn't see his face, but there was no doubt in his mind that the prisoner in this particular cell was absolutely, undeniably his father.

"Get the keys, now!" Hiccup turned his head and hissed. Heather, her face illuminated under the torch, nodded feverishly and turned on her heel, footfalls light as she returned the way they'd come. In the retreating light, Hiccup saw Astrid come sprinting toward him, nearly barreling into him as she found Stoick's cell as well.

"Stoick?" she called, shoulder touching Hiccup's.

"Astrid? Hiccup?" Stoick groaned. He sounded so uncharacteristically _weak_. "Is that really you?"

"It's us, Dad. It's really us," Hiccup stammered. He wanted to tear his way through the metal bars, but they were sturdy and immovable. That surge of energy pooled in his throat, escaping in a desperate gasp that was half-strangled and half-jubilant, on the verge of bursting into tears.

His father was _alive._

* * *

Somehow, Astrid hadn't expected the tidal wave of physical relief that washed over her when she heard Stoick's voice. Hiccup had snapped at Heather to get the keys and pressed himself up against the bars, and her only instinct had been to run and see Stoick for herself.

Heather returned with the keys, passing them into Hiccup's bristling hands. Hiccup fumbled with them at first, trying each of the many keys on the cell door until he finally found the right one. When the lock finally turned, he had the sense to open the door quietly, but after that he bolted inside the cell and left the door to swing freely in his wake. Astrid caught the gate in her hand before she followed, and Heather carefully stepped in to illuminate the cell from behind them.

The light reflected off of the bars and dimly revealed the cell in its entirety. Stoick was resting against the wall, his red beard unkempt and skin dirtied from days of incarceration. His armor looked battered, and his wrists were fastened together by thick, heavy manacles. But when he saw Hiccup and Astrid, the only thing that the injured chieftain could do was beam. The action appeared difficult, Stoick's wrinkles seeming deeper and more prevalent than usual. Hiccup lurched forward again, collapsing to his knees when he reached his father and ensnaring him in a desperate hug, hands scrabbling against Stoick's back as he tried to hold him impossibly tighter.

"Son," Stoick murmured, leaning his head on Hiccup's shoulder. Astrid covered her mouth with her hands, shielding her quivering smile. She heard Hiccup let out another choked sob under his breath.

"Thank Odin, thank Thor, thank all the gods you're alive. I feared the worst," Hiccup whined, finally releasing his suffocating hold on Stoick and pulling back. He left his hands on the Chief's shoulders, gripping the armored plates that adorned them and making sure that he couldn't magically fade away in front of him.

"As did I," Stoick wheezed, "It should be me thanking the gods that you both live."

"We came to find you and the others Drago took prisoner. We brought everyone—the Berserkers, the Bog Burglars, the Meatheads. Even Alvin is here, waiting for the signal," Hiccup explained. Stoick looked up and past him and Astrid as two heavy footsteps resounded behind them. The hulking figure of Mogadon, so similar to the Chief of Berk's, stood over the three of them, arms slack at his sides in surprise.

"Stoick."

"Mogadon," Stoick nodded, the joints in his old, stiff neck crackling as he did. He looked back to Hiccup. "Everyone?" he repeated, eyeing Hiccup with disbelief.

"Everyone." Stoick cracked a wide smile.

Astrid's eyes trailed down to Stoick's manacles, and then further down. The ends of his clothes were burnt, and she motioned for Heather to hand her the torch as cold curiosity overwhelmed her. Heather padded over and passed the flame, which Astrid held out in front of herself in order to see.

The scene was grisly, sending Astrid's stomach roiling as she imagined what things looked like _under_ the bandages. There was so much cloth wrapped around Stoick's legs; the tree trunks that he walked on looked even larger now thanks to the layered dressings. Even his boots had been removed, more bandagings binding his bare feet. Hiccup had said Drago had burned Stoick, but still she hadn't been sure what amount of burns to expect.

The new lighting caught Hiccup's attention, too. His breath hitched and he fell painfully silent, staring at the bandages as if he could make the injuries beneath them go away if he just furrowed his brow hard enough. Stoick's face contorted like he was embarrassed by their looks.

"How?" Hiccup croaked, but the way he was saying it made it clear what he really meant. _How did you survive, _he was asking? How had his wounds not gotten infected, how had the trauma not killed him, how had Drago's men not just put him out of his misery?

Stoick mustered enough strength to formulate a proud smirk. "It takes more than a little fire to kill me."

"Walking is going to be so hard. You'll never fight again," Hiccup said. But Stoick shrugged, like he had come to terms with everything. There was light in his face now that hadn't been there when they'd first walked in. It was like speaking to them had lifted all of the weight off of his shoulders and he could finally breathe again.

"I was thinking of hanging up my hammer soon, anyway," Stoick murmured. Another small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Astrid couldn't help but a smile a little, either. Here was her father-in-law, broken, beat, and scarred, but he still managed to be cheerful and banter with his son.

It occurred to her that they'd already been here for a while and made no progress. Their friends on the other side of the jailhouse door hadn't signaled them yet, but that didn't mean they had an abundance of time. How were Cami and Eret doing? Were the others just off the island in position?

"Let's get these chains off of you. We need to get everyone out of here, quickly," Astrid asserted. Stoick glanced up at her, the warmth of the torch in her hands reflecting off of her flaxen locks and showering her cheeks with heat.

"Free everyone else, first. I can wait," Stoick insisted. Astrid didn't bother to refuse, and she craned her neck. Stoick was as stubborn as a boar.

"Heather, you heard him," was all she said. Heather gave her a fierce nod and raced off, taking Mogadon with her as she blazed through the ring of keys and unlocked cells. Each _clang _of a metal door being unlocked made Astrid's heart pound less, and the murmured voices of Vikings being freed relaxed her.

"Dad, I… I need to tell you something," Hiccup blurted once the three of them were alone again. Stoick's brow furrowed as he eyed his son.

"What's troubling you, son?"

"I've been keeping this from you—I swear that I only found out on our way back after escaping Drago, and she didn't want me to tell you—" Astrid's eyes widened. This wasn't exactly the best time to tell Stoick about Valka, right? Was Hiccup even thinking this through?

"Hiccup. _Hiccup," _Stoick cut in, catching his attention the second time he said his name. Hiccup stopped his rambling, but he really looked like he wanted to continue being nonsensical. "Whatever it is, you don't need to apologize to me. For anything, I—"

"Mom's alive."

Stoick stiffened, caught in the middle of his words. His green eyes looked ready to burst out of his head as he held Hiccup in his gaze, his mouth visibly hanging open underneath all of his facial hair.

"_What?" _the Chief uttered, stunned into total inaction.

Someone's foot scraped against the stone, and Astrid looked over her shoulder to see that a few prisoners had ambled over to Stoick's cell, some of them peering inside and debating whether or not they should enter. Now, they all looked frozen—they must've heard what Hiccup had said, too. Astrid held the torch out in front of her, eyeing each face. She recognized them all—from Pinkeye Gunderson to Trollbreath Halfbrain. More than a few unlucky Berkians who had been captured in the retreat, but she found herself relieved that none of them had been killed.

When she looked back at her husband and father-in-law, they were both still standing there in a silent standoff, Hiccup not sure how to continue and Stoick uncertain if he'd actually heard what he thought he'd heard.

"Probably not good timing," Hiccup muttered. Well, at least he recognized that. "But I needed to tell you, in case something goes wrong. In case this plan doesn't work out. So, yeah. She's alive. And she's here to fight with us. She didn't want me to tell you when we first got back… I chased her away before I could realize what a mistake I was making. I didn't know whose side I was supposed to be on, when I shouldn't have been taking sides to begin with—"

Stoick was staring off into space, mouth hanging open in disbelief, when Heather rounded the doorframe back into Stoick's cell. She held the ring of keys out to Astrid. "That's all of them," the black-haired woman said, and Astrid passed the torch back into her hands in exchange for the keys. With a purpose, Astrid walked over to Stoick, recognizing the awkward air between him and his son.

"A little light, Hiccup?" she asked, and Hiccup brandished Inferno without a word. The blade ignited with a slow burn, filling the cell with even more light than before. He held the blade low as Astrid crouched by the locks on Stoick's manacles, finagling the first key into the keyhole. The flames warmed her cheeks and she could feel them getting redder from the boost in temperature.

It was so quiet as she worked, cursing under her breath as the first and second keys failed to turn the lock. She wanted someone to say something, _anything _that might distract third key didn't fit the lock even a little bit. She swore colorfully and felt Stoick's surprised eyes fall on her as a result, making her cheeks burn up for reasons other than Inferno's heat.

The fifth key that Astrid tried finally slid into the lock, smoothly enough that she instantly knew it would do the trick. "Oh, thank the gods," she muttered. She'd been starting to worry that the key for the shackles wasn't going to be on the keyring at all, perhaps possessed by Drago or one of his wretched generals.

She turned the key and together with Hiccup pried the shackles open, freeing Stoick's wrists for what must've been the first time in days. The Chief relaxed as the manacles came off, squeezing each of his wrists with his opposite hand as feeling came back to them.

"Val's alive? My Val?" he mumbled, holding Hiccup and Astrid in his stare. It was the first thing he'd bothered to say since Astrid had kneeled down to unlock his chains. Astrid exchanged a look with Hiccup and, carefully, they both nodded. Stoick seized, sucking in a sharp breath and flinching like he'd been betrayed. But then he averted his eyes and looked at the wall, green eyes pulsing with introspection.

"I need to see her," he insisted, and he tried to push himself to his feet despite it being obvious that he wouldn't be able to do so.

"No," Hiccup said, and Stoick momentarily gave up on trying to stand. His damaged legs tensed, and he affixed his son with an almost contemptuous glare for having the audacity to deny him.

He tried again to stand, pushing and straining. "I need to find her," he muttered, a stubborn bull doggedly insisting on banging his head against a boulder and maintaining that it would eventually split in two.

"No, you can't!" Hiccup hissed, blowing up in a flash of anger, like watching Stoick's effort had set him off. Stoick gave in again, and when Hiccup spoke again his voice was strangled, hurt by the sight of Stoick's pain. "Do you not realize how hurt you are?" Stoick gave an obstinate scowl, the notion that he was too hurt to fend for himself striking him like some great and terrible offense.

"They're scratches."

"No, they're not! If you try to get out there and find Mom, you're going to get yourself killed and all this will have been for nothing. You're in no shape to do anything but rest," Hiccup insisted.

Astrid concurred, placing a reassuring hand on Hiccup's shoulder. "Listen to him, Stoick. We have a plan to beat Drago. Please, just trust us on that."

Stoick appraised them both and swallowed. His green eyes flicked past them for a moment, perhaps to look at his tribesmen that he'd suffered imprisonment with. They must've all concurred with Hiccup and Astrid, because he finally relaxed.

"Okay," Stoick said, curling in on himself a bit as he met Hiccup's eyes once more. Astrid felt the tension relax from Hiccup's shoulder with her hand, and the very air seemed to cool off.

"Thank you," Hiccup said quietly, and then he tightened up again as he prepared to go, "Now, let's get you out of here."

Astrid shuffled out of the way as Hiccup crouched by his father, joined by Mogadon and a Viking named Starkard. The two muscular men helped Stoick off of the ground, balancing him on their shoulders, and then Hiccup took over for Starkard, draping Stoick's arm around himself and dragging him forward. The Chief's feet dragged at first, but he stubbornly tried to step with them, keeping as much of his weight off of his legs as he could despite the difficulty. Hiccup appeared to be struggling, too, but he forced himself to continue. Judging by his face, Astrid guessed it meant a lot to him right now to be the one to bring his father out of the jail.

Heather led the way with her torch, keeping the corridor lit. A few Vikings followed right behind her, but most of them stayed behind Stoick, Hiccup, and Astrid. Hiccup winced as he readjusted, digging himself further underneath Stoick's arm.

"I swear, Dad, you have to lay off the mead," Hiccup joked under his breath, a dry laugh crackling off of his tongue. Stoick even chuckled a little, too, sounding exhausted.

"Can always count on you to make cracks about my weight…" the Chief wheezed.

"Oi, I'll say I agree with the boy, you stubborn old yak," Mogadon groused, shifting Stoick's weight on his shoulder.

"Lovely to see you too, Mogadon, you cod-brained fool," said the Chief of Berk. The two men chuckled, old friends even behind the insults. Whenever the men met, they'd always engaged in this foolishness, greeting one another with the first disrespectful moniker they could come up with.

"I hope you realize…" Mogadon nagged, "That this is a huge favor, and I'm going to be expecting a more favorable trade deal at the next Thing."

Stoick snorted, another relieving sign of life in the mountainous man. "Over my dead body, Mogadon." The Meathead Chief laughed under his breath, enjoying himself.

Hiccup sniggered and was just about to say something else when they heard the explosions. A thousand deafening _booms _instantly echoed through the walls, rattling even the bars of the jail cells. Hiccup nearly lost his footing from the shaking, and Astrid's fingers tightened against the hilt of her axe as she powered forward in front of her husband, watching the front door as if a swarm of soldiers were going to come pouring inside to stop them.

The shaking and the explosions settled down almost as quickly as they had begun, and for several seconds there was an unrelenting quiet in the corridor. Finally, with a low bellow, one of the Berkians spoke up.

"What the Hel was that?"

"_Shit,_" Hiccup swore. Astrid looked over her shoulder and met his eyes, pulse pounding in her chest. She had hoped to have a few extra minutes to prepare herself, but it seemed she wouldn't be getting that luxury. Hiccup answered the confused Berkian right then and there, never breaking eye contact with Astrid.

"It's the signal. They're early."

* * *

**If you enjoyed this chapter, please, please consider posting a review. I really want to know what you guys think, because I really loved writing this chapter. A lot more exciting than the last few combined, I'd say. Got any favorite little bits somewhere in this chapter? Anything that you hate? Let me know if so, any sort of feedback is welcome and appreciated. Thanks everyone for reading, and I'll see you again soon.**


	22. The Battle of Berk

_**22\. The Battle of Berk**_

Camicazi had loved piracy since she was old enough to know what the word meant. Just about every Bog Burglar to ever live was expected to be a skilled pirate, but Camicazi had worked hard to make sure that no one was better than she was. Because of women like her, the rest of the tribes knew not to start a war with the Bog Burglars. No one wanted to fight them, not even the burliest, Viking-est men in the archipelago. After a few generations of waking up on the morning of battle to find all of their belongings stolen and their skivvies tied to a mast, the other tribes had finally wised up: the women of Bog were not to be trifled with.

So naturally, when Hiccup had discussed infiltrating some of Drago's ships and releasing the dragons he'd built up for his army, Camicazi had been _so _in. There wasn't much piracy to go around anymore, not with all of her free time taken up with being groomed to ascend the throne within the year. Chiefing was tough, but she was tougher—still, she missed the open sea like a long-lost lover. She'd felt more at home on the waves during their midnight voyage to Berk than she had in a while.

That didn't count being with Thatch, of course. She was so glad they didn't fight dragons anymore, because her Changewing was an absolute _darling. _Mischievous as the day was long, he was. Truly, she and her dragon were a match made in Asgard. Not as much of a match as that of Hiccup and Toothless, or Astrid and her Nadder, but Cami wasn't counting them. Those two were so meant to be with dragons she couldn't believe either of them had ever fought the beasts to begin with. Everyone else had had to learn, but Hiccup and Astrid had been born to _teach_.

Thinking back to the actual piracy at hand, Heather's plan had been a stroke of pure brilliance, if Cami did say so herself. She hadn't been worried about the stealth she'd need to exercise for the mission—Bog Burglars were the stealthiest pirates that ever lived. Stealth practically ran through her blood_. _But some of their group were not so talented. Taking Drago's ships and his men's armor fixed that problem right up.

She did hate the helmet, though. The damned thing was atrocious, all style and no practicality: the visor was narrow, and the shape was clunky, and _how did anyone wear this into battle? _For an apparently world-renowned conqueror, Cami had expected Drago Bludvist to have better armorers.

The Isle of Berk rose up from the sea, the village on the south side of the island illuminated with torchlight. Cami peered through her shitty helmet and her eyes widened as she saw the fleet of warships. Many of them were larger versions of the ships they'd stolen, wood-and-metal reinforced decks and ballistae lining the railings. Speaking of ballistae, she _really _wanted to try out one of the ones on this ship. They looked _so _fun.

_Focus, Cami. Focus._

The stolen ships, numbering just three in all, slid closer and closer to the island, encroaching on the enormous fleet. It was so large that barely half the ships that made it up could even fit themselves reasonably close to the harbor. The rest overflowed from there out, spreading in any direction they pleased so long as they had space. Cami glanced up and down as they passed the first few ships, eyeing the men walking up and down the deck. No one seemed to pay them any mind. So far, so good. There was something uniquely satisfying about sailing directly into the heart of the enemy completely unnoticed. Coming upon Drago's scouts at the Steppingstones had cut out all of the extra work. What a stroke of luck.

Eret stood at the helm, carefully guiding their ship further within the ranks of Drago's fleet. He was an interesting man, this Eretson fellow. Attractive, too, but not really Cami's type. She'd watched that mad Thorston girl flirt with him back on Bog, her hands roaming all over the man to no effect. He wasn't crazy enough for the Berkian, so he definitely wasn't crazy enough for Cami. He was a good helmsman, though, and he led them right into the belly of the beast without so much as a flinch. He looked so much like he belonged that Cami wondered for an instant if he was leading them into a trap.

Nah. She'd seen the beautiful little brand that Drago had seared into his flesh. Hiccup vouched for him, too. That was good enough for her—Hiccup was a tremendous judge of character most of the time, provided that he'd actually met the person first.

"You're making this look easy," she muttered, standing close to the wheel.

"Really? I'm so nervous I could piss myself," Eret's voice rattled out from underneath his helmet. Ah, so he was faking it. They passed by more of Drago's ships, sliding further and further into the swarm. Their two companion ships were close behind, and a few people scattered throughout were walking around with their helmets off. It was risky, but part of the immersion. They'd specifically chosen individuals _without_ the more common Viking traits, such as blonde hair, in order to look more casual in their approach. Again, so far, so good.

Eret signaled for the sail to be rolled up and he turned the wheel, steering the ship slightly off to the left near a cluster of other ships. All of them were far larger than their stolen sloop and cluttered by ballistae and traps, offering plenty of natural cover. "This is as far as we go. We don't want to draw too much attention," Eret said under his breath.

"What about the ships we're taking out when everything goes to shit?" Because, honestly, it was going to. That was the only way this plan ended, as much as she loved going through with it. "Don't we want to torch some of the big boys?" Cami gestured further in, where the ships were larger in everything from deck length to sail size; without a doubt the most important in the fleet.

Eret shook his covered head, "Too close, but those are first on the list once we're in the air."

Someone on a nearby ship flagged them down, a middle-aged lad with brown stubble and pale skin who spoke perfect Norse, thank the gods. "Ahoy, captain. See anything out there?"

Eret shook his head, hiding under his helmet. "Nothing," he said, "They must be hiding out somewhere further away."

"Well, one way or another, we'll get 'em. I'll get someone to report to Drago—"

"No—" Eret interrupted, a bit too desperately. The soldier cocked his head, an almost suspicious glare flickering across his features, and Eret backtracked. "No need for that, I mean. I'll get my first mate to do it. Take a load off."

Cami wondered briefly if she was supposed to be the first mate. They never discussed roles. The soldier on the other ship shrugged his shoulders, saying something to the effect of _'suit yourself' _before marching off without a care in the world. _Hmph. _Lazy ass.

"That was lucky," Eret mumbled. Cami nudged him with her elbow, leering at him through her visor.

"Time to let me do the talking, genius." She galloped down the short staircase onto the main part of the deck, motioning for the remaining skeleton crew to leave their stations. "Alright, gang, everyone knows the drill. One of you head below decks and run the show. Keep our prisoners quiet and the dragons calm. When you hear the signal, have the dragons open fire. I don't care what they shoot at." She gestured to the horn dangling from her hip and the identical pair on Eret's belt. Either one of them could blow the signal, and a few people on the other two ships carried identical copies. Cami just hoped no one else blew their cover early.

"Thuggory, stay with Eret. It'll look normal if you're in a pair and you can watch each other's backs," Cami ordered. Thuggory held his helmet in his hands, acting as one of the 'normal' soldiers whose face was allowed to be seen.

"What about the rest of you?" he asked.

Cami sniggered. "You kidding, Thugs? We're Bog Burglars, we know how to take care of ourselves. You boys on the other hand, not so much." She eyed the rest of her comrades; all fellow tribeswomen clad in armor. "Let's move out," she motioned for the others to get ready to jump. They were close enough to the neighboring ship that they could leap and clear the distance. She wanted to drag the plank over and connect the two ships, but that felt too risky.

Cami looked in both directions, making sure no one was watching before she jumped. It was an easy leap and she landed on the other ship by a whole foot and a half, sticking the landing with little more than a _thump _of the boots on her stolen armor. The rest of the girls followed, Eret and Thuggory bringing up the rear. The other two ships behind them unloaded in similar manners, distancing themselves from the lead ship and disappearing into the fleet.

"Fan out," Cami whispered, and her pirate gang dispersed. She walked nonchalantly across the deck, treading around the perimeter of a dragon trap. She wondered what kind of dragon was kept inside but left it behind anyway. Better to not go for the first trap she came across, she needed to get a feel for the ship's design first.

She walked up a small staircase, spotting a soldier standing watch on the back corner of the ship. One of her fellow pirates casually walked across a plank connecting this ship to the one behind it, drawing no attention just like a good Bog Burglar. Cami smiled inwardly and moseyed over to the soldier, her fingers closing around a knife hidden in her sleeve.

"Nice night, huh?" Cami engaged, leaning back against the rail as she approached the guard. He glanced at her, shrugging.

"Yeah, I guess."

"I'm ready to get away from this forsaken rock. Too cold here," Cami kept up the conversation, all the while glancing around to be sure that they were alone and that no one from any neighboring ships was watching. When she saw nothing, she closed her fist around the hilt of her knife. She had to get this guy out of the way.

"Do I know you?" the man asked, narrowing his eyes and scrunching up his nose. So, he didn't enjoy her company. Shame. She was beginning to like him, in the way she could 'like' anyone in service of a man hellbent on destroying everything she held dear.

"'Fraid not," Cami drawled, and struck. Her knife zipped out, gashing the soldier's neck. She clasped her hand over the man's mouth as she slashed his throat, keeping him from making a sound before she pushed him over the edge of the ship. The vessel wasn't very high up, so he dropped beneath the waves with hardly any noise. Cami relaxed and looked over her shoulder, checking again to make sure no one was around. If someone was, she figured the alarm would've already been raised. No sound, shout or blaring cry came, and she relaxed.

She retraced her steps to approach another dragon trap and fastened her hands on the wheel, cranking it open and slipping inside to find a Gronckle. She soothed the bulky dragon, offering a few loving chin scratches and a gentle palm to the snout before relieving the dragon of its chains and shooing it off with well wishes and an insisted _"Stay low". _The Gronckle heeded her advice, buzzing its way out of the trap and off of the ship all while keeping close to the surface of the sea.

She freed another few dragons with the help of another Bog pirate, and once the vessel was cleared of both men and dragons, she sent her comrade up the mast to lower the ship's flag. It was a twofold signal—marking that the ship was cleared and also tipping off the rest of the armada in the distance that they were okay. Once that was done, it was off to another vessel.

Cami moved through the fleet, sneaking from ship to ship. She had her fair share of close calls, but most of them were solvable with patience and of one of her trusty throwing knives. She released dragons of all shapes and sizes, from Gronckles and Nadders to Raincutters and Snafflefangs. Each dragon gladly let her strip them of their chains and their armor, and gleefully obeyed her when she led them out of the traps and to the sea. Cami wondered if she was showing them more kindness than they'd seen in a long time. Perhaps ever.

She must've been through almost two dozen traps when she cranked open one near the back of the ship she was currently on. She'd cleared out three by now, and this one was a larger vessel. Cami cranked the wheel as quietly as she could manage, cursing under her breath when the metal creaked. The noise only lasted a second, but it was enough to set her nerves on fire. Even more carefully than before, she finished opening the trap enough so that she could fit through the gap.

She heard the dragon rumbling as she entered. The moon was low, first light catching on the horizon, and a shaft of its pale light filtered in behind her, illuminating a swath of the darkness. She saw twisted horns and a narrow head, two rows of razor-sharp teeth guarding two enormous nostrils on the front of the dragon's muscular snout. A pair of golden eyes blinked open, wary.

A Monstrous Nightmare.

The dragon growled lowly as she approached, and Cami held out a hand. "Hey there, big guy," she cooed, reaching to pull her helmet off. Her wild blonde hair fell out as she removed it, and she saw the dragon twitch warily. "I'm here to help you get out," Cami added, creeping closer and holding out her gloved hand. There was steel plating around the Nightmare's snout, allowing openings for its nose and eyes.

"It's okay, it's okay," Cami said as the Nightmare shifted uncomfortably. Another low grumble came from its throat, but she persisted, kneeling down and exposing herself. Hiccup had said a Monstrous Nightmare had attacked his dad. Could this be the same one? Surely not, there must've been more than just one Nightmare in Drago's ranks. It was one of the toughest, most dangerous dragons out there, though. Maybe that made them harder to get their hands on.

Cami tugged the manacles off of the dragon's snout, allowing it to open its mouth again. At the action, the Nightmare appraised her with a curious gaze, pupils widening with a semblance of trust.

Cami held out her hand in front of the dragon again, and it nudged forward, nuzzling its snout into her palm. "There we go," Cami whispered, "Now let's get you out of here, hmm?" She reached up and grabbed the steel plate on the dragon's snout, yanking it off and gently setting it on the floor. Then she shuffled over to the chains weighing down its wings, and as she pulled each one off, the Nightmare stabbed its clawed feet into the floor, clenching and unclenching as its wings bent backwards like they were supposed to.

In a moment, the Nightmare was free, and looking at Cami with such adoration. It nudged her shoulder gratefully, and she flashed a smile. "Sorry, big guy, but I'm already taken. My dragon will get jealous if he sees you doing that. Besides, something tells me you could do without people for a while." She motioned for the dragon to follow, quietly stepping to the gap in the dome.

She replaced her helmet and grasped the teeth of the steel dome, peering carefully through the dome and turning her head to the right to check for guards. There were none. She turned her head to the left to check the other side.

And someone grabbed her.

Cami's breath caught in her throat as two strong hands fastened around her neck, yanking her out from the trap. Her stolen armor scraped against the steel teeth of the dome. The Nightmare inside the dome roared, startled as Cami was dragged to the ground.

"Gotcha, you li'l sneak," an unfamiliar voice snapped at her from above, speaking Norse. Cami thrashed against the unseen assailant, but it was no use, and she felt another pair of hands grab her helmet and rip it off, freeing her flaxen hair once again. The helmet skittered across the deck, and she heard a vulgar chuckle.

"A _woman," _the soldier holding her down sniggered. "Haven't seen one o' you in ages."

_Dammit_. There was that 'everything going to shit' thing she'd been counting on. At least it was her who had been caught and not someone else—these stupid men didn't know who they were dealing with.

"Help me with the bitch. We're taking her to Drago. Maybe he'll grant us some personal leave for discoverin' a thief," the soldier ordered his friend. Cami's hand trailed down her side as she felt the man's grip shifting, distracted as a second soldier's footsteps echoed across the deck. If she didn't act, she'd be screwed. Two-on-one was not a bet she'd want to take, not like this. Her fingers grasped the hilt of one of her knives and tightened.

She was like lightning, yanking the blade from its hidden sheath and stabbing it through a gap in the first soldier's shin plating. She felt the knife dig through flesh and thick muscle, and the man let out a guttural scream. She ripped the knife out, snarling as crimson blood shot from the gap, and the soldier skittered back, mightily favoring his opposite leg. Cami leaped up, finding that the soldier wasn't wearing a helmet. Grateful for the easy pickings, she buried the knife a second time into his neck, grabbing the side of the man's head with her free hand and shoving him to the ground as she jerked the knife free, worsening the already lethal cut.

Cami turned her blazing glare upward, shifting to grip her knife normally as the second soldier advanced on her, wielding a spear. He was wearing his helmet, so she couldn't see the details of his face.

"You bi—" he started, but a roar from inside the trap cut him off. He was standing right in front of the gap.

The soldier looked to see what the sound was, and red-hot fire instantly erupted from the darkness, wrapping around him and taking to his armor like a louse to clean hair. The Nightmare inside the trap continued spewing flames, the gel-like blaze melting through the steel of the trap. The soldier shrieked, cooking in his own suit of armor, and collapsed with a sickening _clang_, the steel around his body smelting as the flames died down.

Cami let out a breath that she hadn't known she'd been holding. The Monstrous Nightmare inside the ruined trap poked his head out, sniffing at the smoke rising off of the dead soldier's body and then looking at her with warm eyes, as if to say _look, I saved your life. Do I get a treat?_

"Thanks for the save, big guy," she said, "but I'm afraid that means it's time for you to go."

"_Cami!"_

She knew Thuggory's voice anywhere. The Meathead heir appeared, sprinting around the other side of the deck. The Monstrous Nightmare whipped his head around, snarling at Thuggory's approach and sucking in a breath in preparation to launch another blast of fire.

"No, don't!" Cami fretted, placing her hands on the Nightmare's neck. It thrashed at the sensation, only to turn its head and remember that it was her touching it and calming. Thuggory slowed, holding up his hands in caution as Eret also appeared around the corner, pulling off his helmet to free his black hair.

"We heard shouting. Are you okay?" Eret blurted. Cami nodded and the Nightmare turned its head again, taking in the shapes of the two newcomers.

"Ran into some trouble," she said, gesturing to the two dead bodies near her. Shouting was starting to erupt further down the deck, an amalgamation of war cries and confused yelling. Cami's body went rigid again. "Eret, blow the horn," she ordered, and then she eyed the dragon, "Time for you to go, big guy. Find somewhere safe," she said, guiding the Nightmare out of the trap. It followed her diligently, practically infatuated with her as she urged it off of the ship.

Eret was lifting the horn to his lips as she turned away from the fleeing dragon, blowing through it to signal their allies. Cami jogged up to see one of the stolen ships nearby from over the railing, and Eret lowered the horn. On one of the ships further down, Cami thought she saw a sudden glow of fire through one of the windows below decks.

Soldiers spilled into their path, standing on either end of the narrow walkway and shouting as they saw the three trespassers. Cami, Thuggory, and Eret stood in a triangle back to back, Cami facing the rest of the fleet and their stolen ship as it slowly sailed closer. Through one of the windows in the hull, she saw a stronger orange flash; dragons preparing to fire.

"Intruders!" one of the soldiers yelled, drawing a sword.

"Sorry about this, fellas. It's not personal," Cami said casually. She reconsidered her words, frowning. "Well, maybe it's a _little_ personal."

She stalled the men just long enough. Fire erupted from the hull of the nearby ship, balls of flame and molten rock spewing from within. Flames climbed into the sky as they crashed against the side of the ship, rocking it as fountains of fire coated the wooden hull and spilled onto the deck. Soldiers shouted aimlessly as the ship listed to one side, its integrity compromised.

Cami held her ground as the ship tilted, and a high-pitched whistling sang from the distance. Not the high-pitched whistling she _wanted _to hear, but still she looked, seeing the glow of more fire falling from the sky, boulders swathed in flame. Smoke and fog had rolled in from the sea, exacerbated by the Smokebreaths aboard the rest of their armada creating the natural cover, letting the approaching ships send the first volley of catapults unnoticed. Countless stones covered in fire crashed onto the decks of surrounding ships.

The attack was in full swing.

The few soldiers that had survived the initial blast around them ran away, shouting in various languages. The ship rumbled and started to sink, and Cami eyed her two male companions.

"Let's get started, hmm?" she proposed. Eret and Thuggory nodded and they ran to the edge of the deck. Cami glanced down to see the ship slipping below the waves. They didn't have but a few minutes left until this vessel was completely gone.

Eret pointed in the distance, "There!" he called, pointing to a Thunderdrum flapping into the sky. _His_ Thunderdrum. "Thorönd!" he shouted, waving his arms wildly. The sea dragon glanced over from the sky and spotted him, letting out a roar and flying over.

Eret leaned on the railing as the Thunderdrum arrived, the dragon's mufflers already strapped to its head. Hiccup had designed those, though he hadn't actually built many of them on account of his prolonged absence retrieving his mother. He had stressed, however, that the cups wouldn't solve all of their problems, as the Alpha's primary power was its mind, and the riders would have to do their part to keep their dragons' heads clear for as long as they could. Ideally, the mufflers would give them more of a fighting chance.

Thorönd grunted, beckoning Eret to climb onto his back. Eret vaulted over the railing and settled in, grabbing the reins tied around the dragon's horn. He didn't have a saddle, so he had to hold onto something.

"See you lot on the other side," Eret said as he tensed up.

"Take care of yourself, Eret," Cami warned. She knew his part, he was to spend the majority of his time distracting the Alpha once it made its appearance, having Thorönd scream into its ears while others pelted it with fire, all aiming to keep it from taking control of the dragons they'd brought to the fight this time.

Eret nodded, and Thorönd took off, joining a horde of dragon riders as more spilled into the harbor from the smoke. The rest of the armada began to emerge from the fog, mounted dragons unloading from the ships all at once.

The sea churned up below them and a green-scaled dragon emerged, eyes locked on Thuggory. The Shockjaw bayed happily, latching its claws onto the side of the ship and leaning over the railing to nuzzle its rider. Thuggory let out a laugh, gleeful.

"Boltbite! Good boy!" he praised. "Let me up, will you?" Boltbite grunted and crawled over the railing onto the deck, dripping seawater and flattening its body against the floor to let Thuggory climb into the saddle on its back, nestled right between two of the jagged protrusions along its spine. Thuggory grabbed the handlebars and saluted Cami before taking off, Boltbite adding a reverberating bellow to the collection of cries filling the sky.

The last one left on the deck, Cami slipped the ends of her two forefingers into her mouth, blowing a high-pitched keening whistle that she'd trained Thatch to respond to. Out of the explosions, she saw her dragon's telltale bright red scales emerge, the Changewing flying straight for the deck.

Cami took several steps back, until she couldn't see her incoming dragon. She braced herself and broke into a run, sprinting straight at the railing that would normally keep someone from tipping overboard. When she reached it, she extended her leg and planted her foot right on the rail, forcing herself up and over and leaping as far out as she could.

Right on time, Thatch zipped underneath her, catching her cleanly in the saddle. Cami draped her legs over the dragon's sides, seamlessly fixing her feet in the stirrups and grasping the handlebars with a manic grin. She saw Thuggory and Boltbite up ahead, the latter spitting a bolt of white lightning down on a wooden ship. The resulting explosion was so great that it knocked the mast over and ignited the wood of the deck.

Not to be left out, Cami spurred Thatch into the air. "Great work, Thatch," she praised, "Now let's give these bastards a taste of Bog Burglar justice." Thatch roared in agreement as he reached the apex of his climb and spat a huge glob of acid down on a burning ship. The acid ignited and Thatch kept breathing, connecting two ships with the sludge as it burned like Zippleback gas.

Camicazi frenzied grin grew.

The battle had begun.

* * *

Hiccup nearly kicked the jail door off of its hinges in order to get out. His father's arm weighed heavily on his shoulder, but he didn't care. The weight was the least of his worries. As soon as the door was open, he shuffled through, dragging his father out with Starkard's help. The Vikings he'd left outside the jail as sentries half-shouted and helped him lead Stoick out of the corridor.

It was loud, that was the first thing Hiccup registered. He looked down the road into the town. From the harbor he could see dragons of all shapes and sizes shooting into the sky, roaring and spitting fire. Drago's men were racing from the pilfered homes they'd housed themselves in towards the docks, adding their accumulated shouts to the din. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, a shaft of pale, warm sunlight beginning to creep over the Isle of Berk. With the battle in full swing, it might as well have been midday.

"Hiccup!" Snotlout's voice was music to his ears for once. His cousin was standing just within the covering of the trees, the rest of their group and their dragons packing the forest behind him. Hiccup readjusted his father's arm around his shoulder and hobbled to the tree line, Astrid, Heather, and the other prisoners in tow. They reached the edge of the forest and Hiccup handed Stoick off to another Viking, replacing himself. Toothless bounded through the underbrush, nudging his way next to Snotlout and warbling.

"What do we do?" Snotlout asked him immediately, one eye focused on the unfolding battle.

"Get him somewhere safe," Hiccup said first, gesturing to his father. That was of the utmost importance right now. "I don't care where, just as long as he's away from the fight. Then get on your dragons and join the fight. This is what we've been waiting for."

"Aye, sir!" the Vikings carrying Stoick said almost in unison. Stoick was staring into the town, his face molded into a permanent emotion of shock.

"Snotlout, Fishlegs, distract the Alpha like we practiced. My bet is that Drago will have it ready real soon. Get your mufflers and cover your dragons' ears, make some noise, do whatever you have to do to keep it off of the rest of us. My mom will meet you in the air," Hiccup dished out orders rapid-fire, looking over his shoulder back and forth as more of their people streamed out of the forest, still out of sight as the bulk of Drago's army headed for the docks.

He looked over his shoulder to see Astrid, letting out the slightest relieved exhale as his blood pumped faster than ever before, a burning sensation overwhelming him from the hairs on his head to the tips of his toes. "Astrid, you're with me. We're going to get eyes on Drago and stop him." Astrid answered with a fierce nod and turned to the rest of their army. Stormfly squawked at her side, and Astrid yanked her axe into the air, raising her voice to a bellowing battle cry.

"_The rest of you, send them to Hel!"_

The Vikings erupted, similar war cries echoing from within the trees. Armed men and women surged forth from the foliage, weapons raised and dragons at their sides. Hookfang and Meatlug ambled out from the back of the pack, ready for action as Snotlout and Fishlegs climbed into the saddles on their backs. The cacophonous roaring of Vikings started to fade as they barreled into the town—a large number of Drago's men saw them coming and divided their attentions, and the chilling song of metal against metal began in earnest.

Hiccup, Astrid, and the other riders were the only ones left along with Stoick and the two Vikings carrying him. Astrid climbed onto Stormfly's back, and Windshear trilled as she nudged Heather, both of them fitting a pair of mufflers over their dragons' heads. Hiccup thumbed the straps on Toothless' saddle, about ready to leap on.

"Wait," Stoick's voice croaked. Hiccup nearly whirled around, his father reaching for him with clawing hands. He surged over worriedly, seeing the exhaustion on Stoick's face.

"What is it?" Hiccup managed. Starkard and the other Viking—Hiccup didn't know his name but was aware that he was a Meathead—seemed to be getting increasingly anxious.

Stoick surprised Hiccup by reaching a huge hand to his cheek, cupping it carefully. "You are their Chief now," he murmured, flicking his eyes to the last couple of Vikings diving into the fight. Stoick winced, his legs probably giving him trouble. "This is _your _island. I couldn't have imagined this was how you'd take my place, but know that I am so proud of you, son, for enduring everything that you have. You have the heart of a Chief, just like I've always known, even if I neglected it for so long."

Hiccup nodded, a hint of tears pricking at one of his eyes. "Thanks, Dad," he said, a bit strangled. He steeled himself, getting his emotions under control. He had to be focused. There was no room for error anymore.

"Go take back our home," Stoick urged. Hiccup nodded feverishly.

That was when he heard the bellowing, the screaming that could only come from one man. He couldn't believe that the sound carried so well, but it did, and it was bone-chilling. He already knew what was coming before the sea exploded in a salty spray in the distance and an absolutely gigantic shadow started to rise from it.

"That's our cue!" Hiccup barked. He backed away a few steps, wishing that he could stay with his father for longer but knowing that he couldn't. "Get somewhere safe! I'll find you!" he yelled as the wind picked up and a guttural, monstrous roar erupted from the harbor. He turned to look at the beast in the harbor.

Hiccup looked over his shoulder one final time, flinching as he saw Starkard staring up at the silhouette of the Alpha in absolute awe. He was frozen to the spot, jaw slack at the prospect of a dragon so large. Hiccup summoned a very Stoick-esque yell from his lungs. "Starkard, go!" Starkard flinched hard, blinking away his trance and nodding firmly before he jerked Stoick toward the woods, hobbling along with the Meathead warrior's help. They melted into the foliage and Hiccup spun around, swinging into Toothless' saddle. The tailfin shot open as he locked his foot in the stirrup.

"Here we go, gang! Ready?" Hiccup called. When no one answered, he just assumed that they were. They didn't have time to not be. "Go!" he turned out to be right, because the others followed him and Toothless the second that the Night Fury launched in the air. Hiccup hooked Toothless backward, speeding toward Raven Point in order to build up speed and circle around while the others advanced into the town.

"You with me, bud?" Hiccup called above the wind as they raced. Toothless let out a short snarl that he knew to be an acknowledgement, and then leaned into the Night Fury's back as he slipped on Toothless' mufflers. They circled around the narrow peak of Raven Point, and as Toothless turned to face the Bewilderbeast in the distance, Hiccup braced himself. He could see the silhouettes of dragons encircling it, defiantly shooting fire at it. He imagined that the Alpha had no idea why its innate power wasn't working, at least not yet.

The sky began to scream as Toothless picked up speed. Hiccup laid himself completely flat, able to see the target over Toothless' head but hardly anything more. The Alpha grew larger and larger with baffling speed, Toothless closing in on it.

"Now!" Hiccup shouted, the sound rattling through his own mask. Toothless opened his maw and a single, power-packed ball of plasma rocketed out, blazing ahead even faster than Toothless could fly and striking the Alpha square on the side of the head. The blast exploded on contact and shattered the air, recoil shaking Hiccup and Toothless both as they zipped behind the enormous creature. The Bewilderbeast staggered on its feet, shuffling a little to the side as it tried to recover from the unexpected blow.

With a quick jerk, Toothless looped back around. The Alpha roared again, and another shape blurred into Hiccup's periphery, four wings spreading wide. He cocked his head to the right and saw Valka riding in on Cloudjumper, dozens of dragons packed tight in her wake. She was completely covered in her suit of armor, and her quarterstaff was clasped tight in her grip.

"Ready?" he called; his voice muffled behind his mask. Valka must've understood, because she nodded.

The dragon woman spun her staff in her hands, "We'll take it from here. Go find Drago!" Hiccup nodded and guided Toothless down. Stormfly was flapping over the village, bright blue scales glinting in the firelight as warriors clashed in the streets. Toothless zoomed closer, outrunning dozens of nets as Drago's men on the ships tried to shoot dragons down, and he thought he saw Boltbite blast a ship with lightning, Thuggory hooting like a maniac on the Shockjaw's back.

Hiccup focused on a cluster of Drago's soldiers, all clad in black as they filled the streets. Toothless stirred and fired a bolt of plasma into the horde. The blast struck the ground and exploded, sending a shockwave rippling through the group of men that knocked the majority of them to the ground. The confusion let a horde of Vikings advance, axes and hammers held high as they fell on the invaders. Stormfly beat her wings hard to catch up to them, and Toothless slowed in midair so the Nadder could slide in beside them.

"The others are keeping the Alpha busy," Hiccup said. He glanced over to see Valka's pack passing overhead, raining an absolute downpour of fire onto the crest of the Bewilderbeast's head. The ash-colored beast growled, the sound loud enough to feel like a roar, and thrashed, prompting the riders surrounding it to pull their dragons back in order to not get body checked by the titanic dragon. They looped around the village, no sign of Drago anywhere. The conqueror must've fled indoors or to his ships—he'd summoned the Alpha somehow, so he hadn't vanished.

The sun reflected off of a steel trap on the ground, one of many that had been moved to the village, catching Hiccup's eye. A mischievous idea took shape in his head and he grinned. "What do you say we have a little prison break of our own?" he called, glancing away from the village and at Astrid. Her fingers clenched around the handlebars on Stormfly's saddle, her eyes blazing with a fire that cut through his armor, making him feel stark naked.

Astrid readjusted in the saddle. "I'm with you," she nodded.

Hiccup leaned forward, shifting the tailfin's position so they could dive as quickly as possible. Toothless tilted and went screaming towards the village, Stormfly close behind, and blasted a hole in the nearest trap, nearly knocking the dome on its side with the force of the ensuing explosion. Hiccup looked over his shoulder, watching as a Raincutter slithered out from the ruined trap and lifted off into the air. Behind them, Stormfly zoomed over another dragon trap, spitting fire that was so hot it melted the steel exterior of the dome, almost instantly carving a wide slash through the doors that allowed a trapped Gronckle to flutter out and flap away.

Toothless let out a roar at the fleeing Gronckle, earning the burly dragon's attention. Another roar, and the Gronckle was turning its sights on the village below, zeroing in on another trap and spitting a fountain of molten rocks that melted the dome, allowing the dragon held inside to escape.

"Good thinking buddy, we want to conserve our shots!" Hiccup hollered over the wind. The Gronckle flapped away after the dragon it had freed, fleeing from the battle. Hiccup couldn't blame the poor dragon. Only Odin knew how long it had been since it had tasted freedom.

Hiccup led Toothless into another sweep of the town. Astrid stayed close with them and they teamed up, destroying trap after trap and releasing each dragon within and usually gaining that dragon's assistance in opening additional ones. On the ground, Vikings dominated Drago's foot soldiers. By all accounts, the tide was running strongly in their favor.

"Let's do another pass. How many shots does Stormfly have left?" Hiccup called over the wind. Astrid flew beside him and they leaned into a turn, pivoting around to face the island again. Nearby, the Alpha snarled and thrashed, still being bombarded by blasts of fire and unable to make its presence known in the fight.

"This should be her last one," Astrid replied. Her hair was billowing behind her like a plume of smoke in the wind. It didn't make her any less beautiful, or fierce.

"Toothless should have one or two left. Hang back, we're going to blast one more open, and then we'll turn to finding Drago. The others will be running out of shots soon, too." Hiccup shifted in the saddle and leaned forward, glancing at Astrid to make sure she was ready before he spurred Toothless to speed up. The wind howled again, and as Toothless zipped over the village he thought he heard someone shout an all-too-familiar cry of _'Night Fury!'_

Hiccup zeroed in on a trap near the center of town, and Toothless loosed a bolt of plasma that once again blasted a mangled hole in the front of the steel dome where the two halves merged together. The dragon trapped inside, this time a Zippleback, rammed against the dome and shoved the two halves open as a result, the doors weakened by Toothless' blast. Stormfly smelted another nearby dome and Hiccup jerked Toothless sideways, guiding the Night Fury around to link back up with Stormfly.

"Great shot!" Astrid shouted at him. Hiccup nodded from under his helmet.

"Thanks. Now, let's go find—"

He heard the _thwack _loud and clear, way too close to be safe. He craned his neck, snapping his head around to the right just in time to see a net hurtling toward them, its maw opened wide and ready to snatch him and Toothless up.

_"LOOK OUT!"_ Hiccup bellowed, and he laid flat against Toothless' back as he forced the dragon to dip. He heard Astrid's yelp and looked up, relieved that Toothless had avoided the net only for a split-second as he saw that the net had instead wrapped itself around Stormfly. Iron spheres weighed the net down, pulling the Nadder hopelessly to the ground below. In the center of it all, Astrid thrashed, trying to drag the net off of both herself and her dragon.

The yell that came from him was almost primal, a horrified, strangled scream of panic that nearly stole his own voice from him. _"Astrid! No!"_

There was another bellow, a guttural roar coming from up ahead. Toothless let out a warning snarl and reared up, jerking Hiccup hard enough that his vision swam. Something collided with Toothless, ramming them in a direction that Hiccup couldn't determine. A violent snarl that was not Toothless' filled Hiccup's ears, and he knew right away that a dragon was attacking them. A rush of heat barely missed them, and he gathered from the sound of another roar that a second reptile was joining in to gang up on them.

Hiccup gripped the handlebars on Toothless' saddle, opening the tailfin with a shift of his foot and trying to force his head to stop spinning. Toothless launched upward and Hiccup sucked in a deep breath, his sense of sight returning to him in one sudden rush. Toothless ascended and Hiccup looked over his shoulder, spotting no less than six armored dragons giving chase. One of them, a Windgnasher, sent a column of flame hurtling at them, and Hiccup piloted Toothless into a barrel roll to avoid it.

He whirled back around and swore spectacularly under his breath. Whatever had happened to Astrid, she was going to have to fend for herself. The dragons on his tail would keep him from getting to her.

There was no reason to be worried. He knew that she could handle herself. She was strong and capable, more so than he could ever hope to be.

She'd be fine.

Until she wasn't.

* * *

**If you enjoyed this first part of the final battle, please consider leaving a review! Any and all feedback is welcome, even if it's negative. Otherwise I'll see you all again in a few days for the second part.**


	23. Drastic Measures

_**23\. Drastic Measures**_

Thuggory was having the time of his life. Boltbite swept over the cluster of ships, snarling and gnashing his teeth. The Meathead heir zeroed in on a medium-sized ship—dragons ravaged the traps littering the deck, tearing them open with claws and fire to free those trapped inside. Soldiers on the deck tried in vain to stop them, swinging swords and maces or shooting crossbow bolts at the beasts raining down on them from the sky.

Thuggory clenched his hands around the handlebars on the saddle. "Alright, Boltbite, let's give 'em a piece of Thor's wrath!" he called. Boltbite snarled beneath him and opened his maw. The skin beneath his deep green scales shined with a luminous, bright blue glow, and tendrils of electricity crackled into existence in the back of the dragon's throat, burgeoning and sizzling in the air around Boltbite's open jaws.

The Shockjaw unleashed a jagged bolt of lightning from the surge, subjecting the ship below to its wrath. The electricity lashed across the wooden deck, instantly igniting it in several different places as the bolt scrawled a lethal line across the vessel. Fire erupted from the points of impact, shaking the ship as if a Jötunn had taken a club to its hull. Men shouted as the vessel broke apart and dragons immediately abandoned the ship, and Thuggory let out a victorious whoop.

"Great shot, Boltbite!" he praised and patted the Shockjaw's neck, feeling a harmless tingle from residual electricity that made even his toes wiggle. Boltbite trilled, lapping up the praise. They zipped past Mogadon, who was endeavoring to paint an entire ship in his Monstrous Nightmare's gel-like fire as men fled with their tails between their legs. A few even jumped over the side of the deck to save themselves.

Thuggory looked down again. It was absolute chaos, dragons falling on various ships and doing their worst. He saw a lone Zippleback somersault onto a deck, igniting a wheel of gas around its narrow body and wheeling across the wood. A long line of flame materialized in the beast's wake, catching the sails as the Zippleback tumbled over the edge and took to the air again. There were so many more ships, but dragons took to them in packs, besieging them with fire and claws. Some dove and snatched up men, dropping them over the edge into the roiling harbor water.

And then there was that… _thing. _Hiccup and Astrid's descriptions had formed a particular picture in his mind's eye, but this _Alpha _managed to shatter even those projections, so gargantuan that Thuggory wondered if there were even enough fish in the entire world to truly fill its belly.

Its ashen scales must've numbered in the millions, so large was the beast before him. Even in the weak early morning sunlight, its blood-red-tipped spines and pale blue eyes flared. Its two tremendous tusks boasted a pair of dark shackles, preposterously large chains tying the beast to Drago's flagship. Men appeared to be working hard to cut the chains, probably simply to prevent the Alpha from making a sudden move that would send the ship on its side and drown everyone aboard. More than a dozen dragons circled the godlike beast, defiantly pelting it with fire. The Alpha tried to fight back against them, letting out small (which still managed to sound ear-rending) growls before inhaling and breathing out a great pike of ice at the Stormcutter that appeared to be leading the group.

"C'mon, Boltbite. Let's go lend a hand," Thuggory said, leaning left to steer the Shockjaw around and then leaning back to guide the dragon straight up at the Alpha. Boltbite built up speed as he advanced, hissing and preparing another electrical blast.

"Get 'im!" Thuggory howled, and Boltbite loosed a brilliant bolt of white lightning straight at the colossal dragon's face. The Alpha's malevolent eyes pivoted as it spotted the incoming thunderbolt, but it was too large and too slow a target to do much of anything in response. The lightning bolt struck home right between the Alpha's eyes, churning up the very sea as the titanic dragon staggered backward. Its sudden jerk yanked the flagship around, the vessel's bow tearing through an unfortunate nearby ship.

The Alpha gave a few desperate, exhausted heaves, enormous eyelids blinking closed across its pale blue eyes several times to dispel the apparent blinding glare obstructing its sight. The resulting pause let Boltbite continue climbing until he crested over the Alpha's head, immediately pivoting down to fly over the apex of its skull and back around.

Thuggory spotted a flash of red scales as they rounded the Alpha's titanic body. Cami waved at them and hollered from atop Thatch's back, the Changewing spewing scalding green acid over a few bloody tears in the Alpha's flesh. A great hiss came from the Alpha as the acid spilled into the wounds.

"You diabolical Bogger," Thuggory chided her, wearing a sarcastic smirk. Cami beamed at him.

"All I'm hearing are compliments, Thug. You should save those for the impressionable girls chasing your tail in that rotten village of yours," the Bog heir said. Thatch sneered and Cami steered him away, putting some distance between them and the Alpha so that the Changewing could muster up another store of acid.

"Ah, true. They work much better on them," Thuggory said. He jerked Boltbite to the right to avoid a wild Whispering Death spiraling through the sky. The Alpha shook its tremendous head, loud, furious breaths hissing out from its nose and mouth. The Stormcutter he'd seen earlier was flapping all four of its wings in front of the godlike dragon, its rider standing tall atop its back. Hiccup's _mother. _He hadn't ever really gotten a good look at the newcomer—her armor, for one thing, was beyond interesting.

"It's finally getting fed up with us. Things are about to get a lot harder," the masked woman warned. As if to prove her point, the Alpha raised its head and roared, a manic bellow that rattled Thuggory's ears. The air crystallized in front of its mouth, hardening into shimmering ice. Some of the ice froze and then melted upon climbing into the sky, but other parts remained frozen and hurtled downward, boulders of ice plummeting and crashing into several ships in the harbor. The boulders smashed through the ships' decks, capsizing the vessels. Thuggory didn't even have it in him to snort—from what he knew about Drago Bludvist, he doubted the man cared about friendly fire.

Boltbite whined, succumbing to a tremor as he stared at the furious Alpha towering over it. Thuggory placed a loving hand onto the dragon's skull, softly stroking his scales.

"It's okay, Boltbite. I won't let him take you. Stay with me, pal." The Shockjaw crooned and Thuggory steeled himself; for all his bravado, this gigantic dragon scared him, too. He looked to Hiccup's mother, looking like something straight out of the sagas in her unusual armor, and fixed her with a hard look. "What would you have us do?"

The woman pointed one end of her staff at the Alpha, the club-like hook gleaming in the morning light. "Keep distracting it. We need to give it less targets, so its strength is divided on specific dragons. As long as it can't command them all, we'll have the upper hand. I just hope Hiccup's close to finding Drago down there."

As if to answer her question, a black shape streaked across the sky, a telltale snarl carrying on the wind. About a half-dozen dragons were close behind giving chase, dogging the Night Fury.

"That's troubling," Thuggory blurted.

Valka gasped and leaned forward on her dragon, "Come on! Go, Cloudjumper!" she shouted. The Stormcutter spread his wings and flapped, following Valka's commands to fly closer to the other dragons. A Hideous Zippleback emerged from the group and fired a missile of burning gas that exploded against the Alpha's head, those mad Berk twins hooting and jeering at the gargantuan beast.

"We need to split up—Dagur, Heather, go help Hiccup shake those dragons," Valka ordered. The Berserker siblings nodded and steered their dragons away, the Triple Stryke and Razorwhip rapidly shrinking into similar dots in the sky.

The rider on the Thunderdrum cut in, wobbling on his dragon's flat back. He did _not _look like a seasoned rider—didn't they say he was a dragon trapper like a week ago? What was his name again… Eret? Or was his father's name Eret? Bah, there was too much else going on for Thuggory to remember.

"Hiccup's by himself—where's Astrid?" the newbie rider/possible dragon trapper said. Thuggory cocked an eyebrow.

"I don't know," Valka said curtly. "The rest of you, keep—"

"I'm going to find her," Eret—yes, that was definitely his name, now that he thought about it—insisted.

Valka's head snapped around and she snapped at him. "Eret, we need you here."

"And Astrid could need me. If Hiccup's not with her, something's up." Valka's voice rattled out from behind her helmet like she was about to say something, but Eret held a hand up. "I owe those two my life. If something happens to one of them and I could've helped them—well, I won't allow that. Thorönd, move!"

Eret wasn't willing to let anyone get another word in and he tugged on his Thunderdrum's horn, steering the sea dragon around and driving it forward. The dragon let out a great bellow and flapped its wings, and the girl twin on the Zippleback hollered after him.

"Yeah, you go get 'em, you son of an Eret!" the young woman bit on her nail, grinning almost scandalously. Oh, she was _infatuated. _Thuggory looked over his shoulder at the retreating Thunderdrum. He supposed the man _was _attractive. He spotted Snotlout looking offended, and Thuggory smiled inwardly. He'd never let anyone know it, but Thuggory adored a good love triangle.

The Alpha let out another low growl that jerked him from his stupor. The titanic beast zeroed in on the group of dragons and inhaled, generating a deafening vacuum in doing so.

"Move!" Valka howled, and dragons scattered. Thuggory sent Boltbite veering to the left and felt the air at his back freeze, making his hairs stand on end as the wind instantly froze behind him into thick ice.

"We have to keep pouring it on!" Camicazi yelled.

"Barf's almost out of gas!" the girl twin shouted. Her brother snickered and earned a smack to the head, his helmet clanging as the girl crammed it tighter onto his head.

"So is Thatch, but we don't have a choice!"

"She's right, there's no time!" Valka raised her voice, "Cloudjumper!" The Stormcutter unleashed a whirling vortex of fire, spreading the blaze across the Alpha's eyes. Thuggory saw the great dragon shut its eyes and recoil, smartly protecting itself.

"Boltbite, now!" The Shockjaw heeded Thuggory's call and sent a wicked bolt of lightning ripping across the Alpha's scales, tendrils of the electricity coiling through its red-tipped spines and carving into its flesh. Thatch flew in from the side and spewed a glob of acid straight into the Alpha's open and unsuspecting eye, and it was like pulling a lever. The Alpha recoiled and erupted with a deafening roar, squeezing its right eye shut as acid leaked in and boiled the flesh both within and around the eyelid. Bits of ice formed in the air as the Bewilderbeast's frigid breathing became haggard.

"Oh, no!" a voice squeaked from behind Thuggory. The Meathead heir looked over his shoulder to see the husky Berkian boy (Fishlegs, right? They hadn't seen one another since Hiccup and Astrid's wedding, and before then, since the last Thing on Berk. It sounded right. Thuggory remembered his name being ironic) fussing over his Gronckle. The burly dragon was bristling and shaking, the black pupils of her golden eyes flickering back and forth between narrowed and rounded.

"Meatlug?" Fishlegs cooed, "Daddy's here—answer me, girl!"

Valka and her Stormcutter flew in next to Thuggory, and judging by her voice, he imagined that surprise was streaking across her face, hidden from view by her rather absurd mask. "The Alpha is getting to her," she said with an obvious shiver.

"She's run out of shots, too!" Fishlegs lamented, applying desperate rubs and scratches to the Gronckle. The dragon was wearing the special earmuffs that Hiccup's people had been crafting, but they didn't seem to be working. He _did_ say they weren't going to be foolproof.

"Then she's at her weakest," Valka asserted. She shook her staff at the boy, "Get her out of here and ground your dragon. If she stays much longer, the Alpha may take her fully, and you'll both be in danger! Go, now!" Fishlegs yelped at Valka's aggressive shout and tugged on his dragon, steering her around and getting her to flap away as quickly as she could.

"The rest of you," Valka called, gaining everyone's attention. "Don't let up!"

"Get 'im, Boltbite!" Thuggory howled, and the Shockjaw picked up speed. The Alpha growled, its pale blue eyes following them as it tried to control his dragon. "Not today, you ugly-ass Jötunn!" Thuggory railed, and Boltbite loosed another bolt of crackling lightning, an electrical tongue lashing against the Alpha's body again. The enormous dragon flinched, but otherwise shrugged off the blast, its growl only growing.

"He's getting stronger!" Thuggory reported. He didn't know how it was possible. The beast had spent the whole battle being bombarded by fire, surely that would have worn it out. But as the fight dragged on and their dragons grew more and more tired, the Alpha had only grown stronger. Its icy breath was powerful, sending the temperature around itself plummeting with only an exhale, and its movements were confident and more blistering, like the beast had woken from a long nap and merely been still waking up while they'd peppered it with fire.

"Keep firing! We have to keep it occupied until Drago can be stopped!" Valka shouted. A few dragons blitzed by, snarling and grappling with one another. The woman's Stormcutter breathed a vortex of swirling flames into the Alpha's face, the fire spreading across its gargantuan head as the Alpha roared in agony.

"What if we can't?" Thuggory asked.

Valka whipped her arm over her head, leveling the hooked end of her staff at the Alpha. A cluster of nearby dragons flapped in and dished out a barrage of fire at the godlike beast, pelting it. As the Alpha snarled and diffused the resulting smoke with a shake of its gigantic head, the woman murmured, "Try not to think about it."

If he'd had the headspace for it, Thuggory would've scoffed at her dismissal. As it stood, he was too focused on the beast in front of him that was surely straight out of the sagas.

"We're going in! Come on, Barf!" the girl twin crowed. She and her brother guided their Zippleback closer, the head she was sitting on releasing a cloud of green gas from its gullet.

"Let's blow this place, Belch!" the brother seconded. The head beneath him started to conjure up a mouthful of sparks, but the Alpha released a low groan and moved toward them—and by moved, Thuggory meant _lurched, _deliberately surging at the Zippleback as it flew close.

"_Woah, woah, woah!" _the girl twin shrieked. The Alpha didn't care for her cries and spat a burst of freezing air that instantly hardened into ice, the blast building itself up as it went. _"Move!" _the girl yowled, and she and her brother both tried to jerk their dragon out of the way. The Zippleback scrambled to evade, but it failed to get its entire body out of the way in time, and the ice snagged around the two-headed dragon's tails, freezing them together in a block of ice. The dragon thrashed, flapping its wings pathetically as the ice weighed its twin tails down, sabotaging its flight.

"Uh, is that bad?" the boy twin blurted, looking over his shoulder at the ice. The Zippleback was fading fast, and the only thing beneath it was open water. If it met the sea, the dragon would drown.

"We've got to help them!" Cami shouted. Thuggory fastened his hands around Boltbite's saddle, but before he could speak, Snotlout and his Monstrous Nightmare surged forward.

"Don't worry chumps, we've got this." The black-haired Berkian and his dragon blazed down after the flailing Zippleback and its twin riders, catching up to them with ease. The Nightmare extended its claws and grabbed onto the Zippleback, halting its fall. Snotlout, surprisingly, said nothing as he carried them out of harm's way… was he _posing_ on his dragon's back?

"My hero! I really wasn't looking forward to drowning next to Ruffnut, so this is such a relief," the boy twin rambled. The Monstrous Nightmare raised in the sky back toward them, flying close to Valka.

"Get them out of here. Find somewhere safe and then come back," the woman ordered, and Snotlout tipped his helmet before snapping his fingers at his dragon. Thuggory noticed that the girl twin was staring up at Snotlout with… something like admiration? She lifted her fingers to her lips and bit down on one of her nails, giving the boisterous young man a curious look. But, wasn't she interested in that trapper riding the Thunderdrum? Perhaps there was some drama in store on Berk, provided they didn't all die in the next few minutes.

"Uh, hey, guys?" the male twin interrupted. Thuggory blinked and glanced at him, frowning at the sudden fear in his eyes. "I think we made it mad," the blonde-headed man said, pointing a bony finger.

The Alpha's growl filled Thuggory's ears, the great beast staring down the Monstrous Nightmare carrying the Zippleback. It blinked its massive eyes, and its pupils narrowed again, the rims of its piercing eyeballs red from damage and the scales around its face fractured, the skin beneath them tattered and bleeding. And yet, still the thing looked fine, in the grand scheme of it all.

The Alpha braced itself and let out a deafening bellow, shattering the air with its call. Boltbite wilted in the air, dipping its head down as his movements suddenly grew erratic. Thuggory latched his hands around the handlebars on his saddle to hold on.

"Boltbite?" The Shockjaw gnashed its teeth, snarling pathetically and shaking its head.

"Thatch?" Cami inquired. Thuggory glanced over, noticing that her Changewing was doing much of the same, faltering and erratically flapping his wings to stay in the air.

"Hookfang, snap out of it! Can you not hear me?" Snotlout shouted. He beat his hands together, but the Nightmare seemed confoundingly conflicted, like it didn't know where it was.

Valka's voice on his other side caught his attention, and a spike of fear zapped through his blood. "Oh, no. No, no, no, it's too soon," she stammered. She looked over her shoulder and screamed, "Snotlout, go! Now!"

"Hookfang!" Snotlout yelled, grabbing the Nightmare's head and the mufflers covering its ears. The dragon softened and started to flap toward the village, but its movements were still noticeably erratic, like it was fighting off a bug crawling all over its skin.

Thuggory returned his gaze to the Alpha and realized, in a way, that was exactly what the Nightmare was doing. The Bewilderbeast's pupils were so narrow, so devoid of the love and kindness Thuggory had grown used to seeing in dragons ever since Hiccup had opened his eyes. There was no goodness in this dragon, not anymore. It had been purged by an abusive hand, and it sought only to control, now. They had made the beast angry by defying it for long enough.

"Loki's stinking shit," he cursed, "We're in trouble now."

* * *

Astrid was starting to get _really _tired of being shot down. This was, like, the third time in two weeks it had happened to her. With how high of a standard she held herself to as both a Viking and a dragon rider, that was a few times too many for an entire lifetime, much less half a month.

Stormfly's shrill wail ripped Astrid from her contemplation. The world blurred from underneath the net, Stormfly spinning out of control as she fell from the sky to the ground. Astrid placed both hands on the Nadder and tried to keep her calm. "It's okay, Stormfly! Just stay focused!" she shouted and heard her dragon squawk back. Good, she was still with her.

Astrid was actually thankful for the net when Stormfly crashed into the ground—it kept her from being slung forward and injured. That gratitude evaporated almost instantly, though, and she unlatched her axe from her back and swiftly carved through the ropes, carving a gap large enough for her to slide through.

Astrid slid off of Stormfly's back and felt her feet sink in the ground. They were on a hill on the eastern side of the village, not far from her preferred training grounds. She dashed the thought and turned back to Stormfly, leveling her axe again to begin cutting through the rest of the net. The iron balls on the ends of the ropes kept her Nadder grounded, but the beautiful blue dragon remained surprisingly calm.

"C'mon, Stormfly, we've gotta get out of this and back in the air, before—" Astrid saw Stormfly's head turn at someone's approach, but the subsequent voice still caused her breath to catch in her throat.

"_My, my, look what I have found."_

Part of Astrid had hoped that she'd never hear this asshole's voice again. He grated on her like no other. She kept her axe leveled up and rounded past Stormfly's head. The panicked Nadder screeched indignantly and suddenly spat a beam of white-hot magnesium fire, sparks dancing off of the blast in waves. The intruder lifted a shield to block the flames. Fire spewed in every direction as it reflected off of the reinforced screen, and once the blast subsided, a familiar face peered over the lip of the shield, all too familiar to Astrid.

"Krogan," she spat.

"Astrid Haddock," the man replied with equal venom. He put on a smarmy smile. "How delightful it is to see you again. We've missed you."

"Wish I could say the same," Astrid snarled. Stormfly hissed beside her, parting her maw to show the building fire in the back of her throat, but only sparks came out this time, the embers dying before they even hit the dirt in front of the Nadder. Astrid tensed. Stormfly had used up her last shot.

The Nadder knew it too. She hissed twice as loud in an attempt to appear threatening. Fire wasn't her only option, but the weighted net that had downed them was large and steadfastly wrapped around both her body and her tail, keeping her from lifting the muscular appendage and firing a few tail spines. She'd be immobilized for as long as the net covered her.

"Stormfly," Astrid croaked, her grip on her axe lessening a bit.

Krogan recognized the threat of her dragon was no more and chuckled, completely dropping his shield to the ground. Without a word, he brandished a thin blowpipe and loaded it with a dart. Astrid gasped, but it was all she could do before Krogan lifted the blowpipe to his mouth and fired the sleeping dart, burying it straight into Stormfly's neck.

"There, that's enough of that," he said, holstering the blowpipe as the Nadder whimpered and succumbed to the toxins in the dart. Astrid collapsed by her dragon, frantically rubbing her hands against the dragon's head. "Come now, Astrid Haddock, your dragon will be fine. I cannot very well kill such a promising specimen. Your Nadder will make a fine addition to our ranks."

Astrid seethed and stood up, raising her axe defensively in front of her body. "You'll take her over my dead body," she hissed, blood pumping violently through every extremity. She could feel it rushing through her neck and into her fingers, clenching around the shaft of her axe. Her toes curled with adrenaline, goosebumps streaking across her body.

Krogan frowned. "That's a shame. I was hoping we might get to know each other. Perhaps grow even closer." His eyes flicked lecherously up and down her shape.

The implication was not lost on Astrid. "Like I'd give myself to you," she sneered. Krogan's lips curled upward in a smirk, as if he were pleased with her fire. A morbid chuckle escaped his throat, and he gingerly fastened one hand around the hilt of his sword, sheathed at his hip.

"We'll see. Now, Astrid Haddock, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way," he said, and then he ripped his sword from its sheath. It was a fine blade, its silver hilt encrusted with jewels and what appeared to be dragon scales. The guards were stylized into a pair of miniature dragon's heads facing opposite directions, forked tongues emerging from their opened maws. "Personally, I prefer the hard way."

Astrid bared her teeth, resolute and unwaveringly resistant. "What a coincidence. So do I."

Krogan charged. Astrid twirled her axe, catching the blade and pushing it away from her. He swung again only to get the same result, and she could tell that he was underestimating her, that he was pulling his punches. He wanted her alive, no more than injured. She could see it in the way he moved.

That would be the difference between them now. He was fighting to capture her. She was fighting to win. She wasn't walking off of this hill with Krogan still drawing breath.

Krogan jabbed at her again and she parried, stepping back to put some distance between her and the general. "Not bad. Not bad at all. You've been taught well," he harassed her and twirled his sword once, following her in a circle. Astrid eyed his armor; light and made primarily of leather. He was overconfident. Her axe could tear through it if she could get close enough.

She was Berk's finest. She would not lose.

"We'll see if that helps you," Krogan hissed, and he attacked again. Astrid lifted her axe to match him and their weapons crashed against one another. Krogan moved faster now, trying to break her defense and putting Astrid on her back foot as she protected herself again and again. She spotted Krogan's discarded shield out of the corner of her eye, resting on the ground behind him. Krogan raised his weapon again and Astrid surged forward to meet him, catching him off-guard and forcing him to block rather than take another stab at her.

She struck with all of her might, smashing her axe against Krogan's sword hard enough to catch him by surprise. He staggered and pulled his sword back, giving Astrid an opening to strike at him with her axe. He saw the move coming and tried to pull back, so she only managed to graze his upper arm, cutting through the fabric of his sleeve.

Krogan saw red as her blade sliced into his flesh, rearing back and swinging his sword again. Astrid sidestepped and spun, feeling the steel _whoosh _by her and cleave its way into the dirt. In the second that Krogan had given her, she dashed past him, reaching for the shield and snatching it up before turning to face him again. She raised the shield, a round shape like the ones on Berk, but instead adorned with the insignia of Drago's forces.

Krogan raised an eyebrow, another lecherous smile creeping onto his face. "That shield looks rather good in your hands. A bit of foreshadowing, I wonder?"

"Guess again," Astrid spat.

This time, Astrid charged, her axe in her right hand and the shield in her left. Krogan tried to head her off by swinging his sword, so she raised the shield and braced as she felt the force of the blow through the wood. She swung her axe and felt the pressure of Krogan's sword release as he spun it in his hands to deflect her strike, glancing her blade off of his own and taking a quick step backward out of her reach.

Krogan's cruel smile came out to play once more and he slashed at her. Astrid parried and pivoted on her feet as Krogan tried to blaze through her defenses. He was agile, and she had to match his speed. Their weapons danced off of one another, steel ringing against steel. With the combination of her axe and shield, she was able to keep up, using both to block Krogan's attacks. Still, he managed to dedicate enough of his headspace to defense, thwarting her every time she had a chance to get close and wound him.

She shoved Krogan back with her shield, galloping back several steps and breathing a sigh of relief when he didn't immediately advance on her again. She kept her ears open for any newcomers—Hiccup had explained to her how Chaghatai Khan had snuck up on him. Krogan remained steady, switching his sword into his left hand so that he could reach up with his right and wipe away the blood seeping from the gash on his upper arm. The crimson ooze stuck to his fingers, dirtying his olive skin.

"You cannot last forever," he taunted, returning his weapon to the proper hand. His black eyebrows crooked down over his face, furrowing together as the faint scar over his right eye caught the morning sunlight. "Give in now, and I'll be lenient."

"Do you think me so foolish? So soft?" Astrid replied, baring her teeth.

"Quite the opposite," Krogan answered, "I think you're wise beyond your years, Astrid Haddock."

Astrid scoffed, her grip on her axe tightening. "Gee, you really know the way to a girl's heart."

"I repeat my offer. Concede. End this foolish retaliation. Bend the knee to Drago and save your people while you still can. Secure your place in the new world."

"And I make mine," Astrid said, "Leave Berk and the archipelago forever. Release the dragons you've enslaved, and let the Alpha go free. Surrender, and live."

Krogan nearly blew steam out of his own ears, sneering so hard that a vein threatened to burst from his forehead. "You cannot win," he hissed.

"Maybe," Astrid shrugged, "But I am a Viking of Berk. And I will never surrender my dragon, my freedom, or my people." Krogan's eyes narrowed, a hot exhale blasting from his nose. He pointed his sword at her.

"Then you will die."

Astrid lifted her shield over her torso as Krogan charged, rearing back his sword for a powerful swing. The steel met the wood of her shield and Astrid shoved back, knocking Krogan back a step and swinging her axe only to meet his sword with it. Their weapons clanged off of one another and both of them swung again, getting the same result. Astrid raised her shield again to block Krogan's ensuing swing and then pivoted the rest of her body, swinging her axe low from the other side. Krogan compensated perfectly, twirling his sword down so that he could parry the move. Astrid's feet carried through and she drove Krogan's sword up and out, twisting out of their gridlock and pacing backward.

Astrid heaved, eyeing Krogan's sword as he lowered it to hold it below his waist, surging forward a step. Without thinking, she swung her left arm, releasing her grip on the handles of her shield. The disc spun at an angle, the iron band around its body shimmering in the sun. Krogan flinched, his hesitation keeping him from thinking to dodge or raise his sword to protect himself. The shield cracked against his face and Krogan yelled, staggering back as the shield clattered to the ground. He grabbed his forehead, the skin there already starting to bruise, and Astrid broke into a sprint.

"_YAH!" _Astrid closed the gap between them and swung. Krogan reeled, lifting his sword in front of him to deflect. As soon as their blades clashed, Astrid pulled her axe back to come from the other side. Krogan barely managed to parry, and Astrid lifted her axe for a brutal overhead swing. Krogan lifted his sword to meet hers and her axe smashed against it. She pushed and drove Krogan's sword downward so that their weapons were pointing towards the ground. He was blinking furiously, still in an obvious daze from being unexpectedly struck by Astrid's shield. He regained his composure, though, and started to push back against her, trying to overpower her with brute force.

Astrid reacted quick. She reared up her right leg and kicked as hard as she could, her boot connecting with Krogan's shin. She heard a dull sound that she hoped was the cracking of bone, judging by Krogan's facial expression. The shock that the kick left him with saw his grip go momentarily slack, and Astrid answered by sliding her axe sideways as hard as she could. His sword was flat, so the guards between the hilt and the blade couldn't protect him. Her axe sliced through clean air, riding down the length of Krogan's sword before biting into the flesh of his right forearm.

The blade cut a messy swath into the skin and Krogan snarled, biting back a scream of pain. His fingers extended and his sword instantly dropped from his hand, and he recoiled back a step as Astrid carried through with her swing. She caught herself and leveled her axe near her head, following Krogan with every step as he backpedaled. Blood trickled from the fresh gash in his forearm, dark and crimson, and he was suddenly unarmed. Astrid couldn't contain the sneer as she closed in on him.

"Remember my promise," she bit. Krogan's eyes narrowed and he tried to swing a fist at her, desperate. She easily dodged the errant punch and reared back her axe, feeling the hand of destiny guide her weapon forward. The steel cleaved through Krogan's leather armor, finding the flesh underneath it and carving into his chest. She put her entire body into the fatal swing, throwing Krogan down with the force of the blow and as a result, slinging herself forward. They both fell, Astrid burying an axe into the man's chest, and she only relaxed when she felt the ground push back against her, stopping her from tearing into him any further.

She felt the blood prickling across her face as she finally was forced to stop, specks of fluid that seemed to burn against her skin. _Krogan's_ blood. She glanced up at the general's face, noting his pallid eyes. He was expressionless, stunned into silence. Another jolt of anger coursed through her, reminded of every cruel threat he'd made against her, or Hiccup, or Berk.

She brought one leg forward and pressed her foot into his stomach, gaining a pathetic wheeze from the man, and then wrenched her axe free, worsening the wound tenfold as it shredded the muscle it had just been lodged in. More blood spilled from the gash, staining Krogan's ruined leather breastplate and leaking onto his red tunic underneath it. She stepped back a half-dozen paces, her axe suddenly feeling oddly heavy.

Krogan sucked in a pitiful, choked breath, as if begging for life through panting, and he coughed out the air, his throat convulsing and his cheeks inflating as he did so. His right hand, blood also flowing from the wound just above it across his forearm, came up to hold the fatal gash. He was fading fast.

"You did it," the voice came, but it wasn't Krogan's. The sound was too full of life, too healthy to be the bleeding general. Astrid looked over her shoulder and flinched as she recognized Eret. He was standing another few steps behind her, staring in surprise at Krogan's bloodied body. Thorönd roosted beside him—she hadn't even heard them land.

"Eret—" she started, but he interrupted her.

"I'm not surprised—not really. But… wow," he murmured.

Krogan tilted his head down, his glassy eyes widening just a bit. "Eretson…?" he slurred, drunk on his impending death. He cracked a maddened smile, all inhibition lost as blood pumped from his chest in a way that it was never supposed to. "Look what you've become," he said.

Astrid wasn't sure if Krogan could see Thorönd with him, or how much he could actually see at all, but his continued speech was enough to put her on edge. Enough to afflict her with the impossible suspicion that he would somehow survive when she knew he would not, that she hadn't quite stamped out the venom that this man produced every moment she saw him. He was evil, and she was glad he was going to die. But it still made her skin crawl.

Eret's face went cold at the sound of Krogan's voice. His neck pulsed with blood, and when he spoke his voice was full of a kind of sadness; mourning, but not willing to cry. Like he actually felt bad for Krogan. "Look what I've risen above," Eret said, surprising Astrid in the moment. "All the harm you've done… all the people and dragons you've hurt… look where it's gotten you."

Krogan scoffed, but before he could finish, he slipped into a fit of coughs, hoarse and raspy as he coughed up some blood. When he settled down, there was no remorse in him, no last-minute repentance.

"I've had a good life. I've had the things I wanted, when I wanted them. I've been the master of my own fate." Another round of coughs, and more blood. The crimson fluid was starting to pool beneath him—he had to be clinging to life now. "But you, Eretson? You can't claim any of that. You have always been a servant. I pity you."

Astrid looked over at Eret and he glanced her way for a brief instant, nodding reluctantly. There was no arguing with Krogan. He wasn't worth it. "Say what you will, Krogan. One of us is bleeding out in the dirt, and the other isn't." He immediately turned his back and took a step towards Thorönd, stopping to glance over his shoulder. "Astrid, get Stormfly. I spotted Drago while trying to find you. We have to stop him."

Astrid nodded and jogged in the other direction, where Stormfly was still resting underneath the net weighing her down. She stepped past Krogan without even glancing at him—he didn't make a sound as she did, so he was either dead or knocking at Hel's door. Stormfly cooed at her when she approached, looking dazed as she tried to fight the toxins from Krogan's dart.

"Hi, girl. Let's get you out of here, huh?" Astrid suggested. She yanked the dart from the Nadder's scales and lightly scratched Stormfly's chin, returning some feeling to the dragon's skin. Then, she brandished her axe, its blade still slick with Krogan's blood. Astrid raised the weapon and cleaved through the netting trapping her dragon, and Stormfly immediately spread one wing as the left side of the net fell apart. Astrid carved through the rest and the Nadder gradually stood up completely, letting out a triumphant shriek once she rose fully to her feet.

Astrid grabbed onto the edge of her saddle and leaped up, clawing her way onto the Nadder's back. Without even needing the word, Stormfly winged into the sky, Eret and Thorönd right behind them. Astrid let the Thunderdrum catch up, looking over her shoulder as the Tidal Class dragon drifted in next to them.

"Where'd you see Drago?"

Eret pointed across the village. "On the hill outside the Chief's house," he replied.

Astrid was about to answer when she heard the shriek of a diving Night Fury. Toothless blazed across her vision in front of her, whirling around to fly in on her other side with a precision that only Hiccup could've mustered. Sure enough, Hiccup sat up straight and yanked the face of his helmet up over his head, relief washing through his deep green eyes.

"Thank the gods," he breathed, "Are you alright?"

Astrid shook her head up and down in an eager nod, feeling a tension relax in her shoulders that she hadn't even noticed had popped up. "Fine. Though I can't say the same for Krogan." Astrid flicked her head to gesture back over her shoulder. Hiccup followed the gesture with his eyes, and he must've noticed the bloodied axe strapped to her back, because a little color faded from his face. Not much, mind, but enough for Astrid to notice it and recognize the same reservations he'd always had about killing. Hiccup had never physically taken a life with his own two hands, but he had done things that had impersonally resulted in death, like blasting a ship to pieces with Toothless. None of it ever made him proud or happy. Astrid supposed that was a virtuous thing. It was proof that he was good.

Heather and Dagur winged in beside Hiccup, and Astrid felt another rush of relief seeing her two favorite Berserkers in one piece. Eret interjected on the reunion, calling Astrid back to the scene. "Hiccup, I saw Drago. He's—"

"At my father's house, I know. I saw him on the way in, but I had to make sure you were alright," Astrid noticed he was speaking to her more than he was to Eret. Hiccup looked out to the harbor, where the Alpha was towering over everything. The colossal dragon was still fighting the few that remained around it. "Dagur, go help them fight the Alpha. They're struggling."

Dagur saluted and barked an "You got it, brother!" before breaking off from the group, encouraging Sleuther onward.

"I can go with him," Eret offered, knowing Thorönd's loud voice could be useful.

"Not yet, Eret. I need you down there with us. We're going to need a few pairs of hands on our side to take down Drago. It looked like Griselda was with him, too." Astrid gritted her teeth at the mention of that woman. Eret nodded, deferring, and tightened his grip on Thorönd's horn.

They passed over the town, the hill in front of Stoick's house appearing. Fighting surrounded the rise, groups of Vikings battling with Drago's men. A few dragons joined the fight on Drago's side, enthralled. In the center of the carnage were two figures, on an island of mangled green grass. Drago Bludvist and Griselda the Grievous.

"There they are," Hiccup said, "Ready?"

There was a whine of steel as Heather drew her axe, one hand clenching around the handle as the weapon hung low at her side and the other around one handlebar on Windshear's saddle. "Let's do this," she hissed.

Hiccup answered by pulling his helmet down. Eret adjusted himself on Thorönd's back (he still needed to have a saddle made for him), and Astrid pressed her knees into either side of Stormfly's flank, reaching for her axe as well.

Astrid's head pounded, stringing together a single thought. _Everything ends, _the voice in her head seemed to say, _today._

* * *

Toothless practically crashed into the ground, massive paws and black claws puncturing the ground. He extended his bat-like wings and sneered, teeth surely coming out to play. Hiccup glared through the eye holes of his helmet at the two warriors in front of him. Griselda's hand was wrapped firmly around the hilt of her sword, ready to launch into action, but Drago was as expressionless as ever. His weapon hung absently at his side, massive arm still as a glacier.

Finally, Drago smiled, a crude shift in his stone-cold demeanor. "Dragon Master," the warlord's voice rattled, "You certainly are hard to get rid of."

"It's over, Drago. You're going to lose," Hiccup warned.

Drago chuckled, and Griselda smirked at his side. "Is that what you think?" Drago asked, "That because you gathered your allies, you've already won? Scrawny and foolish. I cannot imagine Stoick the Vast's shame."

"The Alpha can't control our dragons."

"No, not yet. But your distraction tactics cannot last forever," Drago mused, craning his neck to look up at the Alpha. It was actively chasing after Valka and the others now. Dagur had joined them, but the others were almost surely out of fire by now. A decent pack of other dragons hovered above the godlike dragon and pelted it with flame.

"It doesn't have to last forever," Hiccup replied. He slid off of Toothless' back and brandished Inferno, igniting the blade and holding it with two hands at shoulder-height. Beside him, Eret stepped out and unsheathed his twin swords, while Astrid and Heather leveled their axes on his other side. "It just has to last until we stop you."

Drago managed another chuckle, more mirth written across his scarred face than Hiccup had thought possible. It didn't bother him; he could take the man's insults. Overconfidence was his weakness, and they'd prove that to him. The warlord lifted his bullhook over his head and twirled it around, carving a wide circle through the air with the long steel shaft. The metal almost hummed, and Hiccup saw the shadows flicker across the grassy hill just before the shapes descended.

Four dragons fluttered to the ground behind Drago and Griselda, flanking them. Shining steel plates adorned their heads, and their eyes were narrow. Hiccup eyed each individual dragon, all the knowledge he had of them flitting across his mind. A Zippleback, a Windgnasher, a Thunderclaw…

And a Rumblehorn.

"Skullcrusher?" Hiccup mumbled, head spinning as he took in the dragon's familiar mottled green and reddish scales. One of Drago's steel plates covered the dragon's face, holes allowing his long horns to protrude. His father's dragon was completely under the Alpha's spell.

"Once a dragon has been broken to the Alpha's will, it cannot resist its command… or its commander. So, he who controls the _Alpha…" _Drago pointed his bullhook at the gigantic dragon in the harbor, spitting ice as it chased after what appeared to be Cami and Thatch. Sleuther attacked from the other side, dividing its attention, "controls them _all."_

Hiccup felt a hand on his shoulder—Astrid's hand. She squeezed when he looked at her, not needing to say anything to get her point across. Behind him, Toothless gnashed his teeth in a way that Hiccup knew meant that the Night Fury was speaking to him. He looked down and Toothless gave an assertive nod, flicking his eyes at the enthralled dragons. He knew what his best friend meant: they would take care of the dragons so that Hiccup and the others could stop Drago and Griselda.

Hiccup faced forward again and held Inferno in front of him, glaring at Drago through the flickering tongues of its flames. "We'll see," he said. Beside Drago, Griselda unsheathed her sword completely, spreading her feet to shoulder-width apart as she raised the steel blade. Drago maintained his contemptuous gaze, and in a sudden motion he thrashed his bullhook forward.

"_Get them!"_

* * *

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Please consider leaving another one for this chapter if you enjoyed it, or even if you hated it. Any and all feedback is welcome. Part 3 will be released on Saturday. Thanks for reading!**


	24. Protects Them All

**Welcome one and all to the final part of the final battle for Berk! I'm excited to finally be here.**

**Announcement: I'm considering reworking **_**Bound**_** and adding things here and there to the chapters. A 'definitive edition' cut, if you will, to celebrate the 1-year anniversary of the story's completion. The first chapter has already received that treatment, seeing edits for cohesiveness, dialogue, and some extra details that I think help the story along. If you're interested in re-reading **_**Bound**_**, now's the time! I haven't made any hard commitments to doing the same things to the rest of the story, but if I do, I'll make sure that you all know about it.**

**With that in mind, I'll be pushing my next two updates back to a once-a-week schedule. Chapter 25 will come on June 20th, and Chapter 26 will follow on the 27th to wrap things up.**

**If you enjoy this chapter (or if you don't!) please think about posting a review at the bottom. I want to hear how lots of you feel about this conclusion to the final battle and about the story at large, if you have the time or passion. Everything's almost over, so now's the time!**

**Without further ado, read on!**

* * *

_**24\. Protects Them All**_

The dragons under Drago's control all leaped at once, hurtling over the warlord with a combined snarl. In a flash, a black blur blazed by Hiccup along with blue and silver bursts—Toothless and the others' dragons leaped into the air to meet their foes, crashing into one another and swinging their claws. Toothless latched onto Skullcrusher and dragged the enthralled Rumblehorn away, leading by example so that Windshear, Stormfly, and Thorönd guided their adversaries along with them, keeping the rabid dragons away from their riders and once again leaving Hiccup and his friends facing off against Drago and Griselda alone.

"Fine," Drago snarled with narrowed eyes, and without another word he and Griselda were advancing. Griselda pointed her sword at Astrid, sneering.

"That one's mine," she said, and Drago broke away from her to approach Hiccup and Eret. He saw Astrid twirl her axe in her hand, ready for the woman general.

"I've got your back, Astrid," Heather promised, stepping in beside her friend and brandishing her axe as well. Griselda grinned, perhaps at the prospect of a challenge, and the three women merged together to clash.

Drago swinging his bullhook yanked Hiccup back into focus. He lifted Inferno to meet the oncoming weapon, holding himself steady to absorb the blow. Eret spun his twin swords in his hands and surged forward, but Drago used Inferno as a launch pad to bring his bullhook around and parry the strikes. The massive man darted backwards, holding the hook away from his body and sneering.

Shouts erupted nearby. Hiccup glanced over his shoulder and spotted amassed Vikings pooling into the streets from the center of the village. Armored men bearing Drago's insignia were shoved to their knees, cowering all the way. More and more Vikings spilled in, war cries echoing up the hill.

"They're surrendering…" Eret gasped. Hiccup met his eyes with bated breath. _They were winning._

"_No!" _Drago's roar came, visceral and inhuman. He surged forward and swung his bullhook at Hiccup, which he ducked underneath and retaliated with a stab of Inferno. Drago twisted out of the way and brought his bullhook around his back to deflect Eret's identical move, switching places with the pair so that his back was now to the Vikings appearing at the foot of the hill. _"No surrender!" _he howled, but if any of his men down below could hear him, they weren't keen to listen. Hundreds of hostile swords and axes tended to have an effect on people.

Above, a dragon's growl rang out—Toothless' growl. The Night Fury was beating his wings intensely, keeping himself aloft just enough to keep fighting with Skullcrusher. Stormfly and the other dragons grappled with their own foes, but the clash between Toothless and Skullcrusher was undoubtedly the most violent. Skullcrusher continued to bellow, ducking his horned head and stabbing while swinging his great paws around. Toothless twisted in and out, using the Rumblehorn's body a few times as a landing pad to launch off of.

"Toothless, keep it up! This is almost over!" Hiccup called. The Night Fury gave an answering snarl and refocused on his foe. Hiccup did the same as Drago charged again, swinging his weapon with that much more ferocity. He was like a cornered animal, knowing he was on the brink of losing and with his Alpha still unable to interfere.

On the other side of the hill, Heather and Astrid were weaving in and out around Griselda, challenging the sword-wielding woman to keep up. The general spun her sword rapidly, warding off both young women and the blades of their axes. Heather dove in and Griselda parried, immediately twisting her sword to batter Heather's weapon a second and third time in the space of a second. Heather lost her balance from the unexpected strikes, and Griselda took the opportunity to lash her sword across the young woman's arm, drawing blood.

The black-haired woman staggered several steps away before collapsing to one knee, clasping a hand around her arm to stem the bleeding. Her axe rested halfway between her and where Griselda was still clashing with Astrid, but the wound in her arm was deep enough that she couldn't reach for it and rejoin the fight.

Hiccup looked over his shoulder as he put some distance between himself and Drago, spotting the Berserker woman on the ground. "Heather!" he called out, worry rolling off of his tongue.

"I'm okay!" she promised. At the sound of her voice, Astrid bolstered the ferocity behind her attacks, hoping to outgun Griselda.

Hiccup whipped his head back around at Drago and steeled, gritting his teeth. "You're done hurting my friends," he said, and with a new resolve he advanced, faking a step to the right and dashing leftward. Drago bit, jerking his bullhook where he thought Hiccup was going to go. Hiccup struck and Drago scrambled to correct his mistake, managing a haphazard parry that knocked him off balance.

Eret came sprinting from Drago's right, leaping and swinging both weapons. Drago stumbled backwards, causing Eret to graze the sword in his left hand through a lock of his black hair and nick the warlord's chin. Drago hissed at the cut and Eret rolled past, opening another window for Hiccup to engage.

Eret whirled around and they both converged on the conqueror, swinging their swords at the same time. Drago reached his bullhook out to deflect Inferno before lifting his metal prosthesis to catch Eret's swords. The iron appendage screeched as the blades cut into it, but Drago slotted the weapons between the metal fingers of his false arm to avoid losing them.

Still, his strength was divided focusing on that effort, and Hiccup knew it. He slid Inferno along the shaft of Drago's bullhook, shifting the sword so that the curved point below it fit in between the gap in Inferno's blade. Hiccup tugged, lifting one leg to kick Drago's knee. The warlord yelled and pivoted his head, eyes wild and trembling as he tried to keep Hiccup from disarming him, but Eret yanked his swords free and distracted Drago from that end.

With a final tug, Hiccup pulled the bullhook out of Drago's grasp, forcing the warlord's arm down where his hold would be weakest. As soon as the weapon was free, he tossed it out of reach and lifted Inferno up to point it at Drago's neck. Drago moved his metal arm to protect himself from Eret's incoming swords—Eret charged into him with all of his might and, amazingly, knocked Drago over.

The "Dragon God" tumbled, falling on his back. He immediately tried to return to his feet, only for a gleaming sword to appear inches from his neck. Drago froze and what little color he had left drained from his face, violent eyes drifting upward to spy the man holding him down with the edge of a blade.

Eret scowled, his other sword resting in his opposite arm and at his side. "Move, and you die." Hiccup knew that he absolutely meant it. Eret probably wanted to jam the blade forward and execute Drago right then and there, the confliction on his face said as much. The total completion of his vengeance was literally inches away, but he still had it in him to restrain himself.

They could worry about it later. Hiccup turned his head where Astrid was still battling Griselda, her axe singing as it smashed against Griselda's sword. "He's down!"

Griselda looked past Astrid and at Hiccup, realizing that Drago had been bested. She let out a strained howl and her movements suddenly turned erratic. She became off-balance and wild, swinging furiously and without any rhythm as she displayed only one goal: slaying the woman in front of her.

Griselda curled her sword inward and stabbed. Astrid batted the sword away, having only a second to rest before Griselda whipped her sword around again, this time aiming for Astrid's head. Astrid ducked and dove forward, reaching her axe out to catch Griselda's ankle and tug. As she whirled around to Griselda's back, she pulled on her axe and yanked the general's foot out from under her.

Griselda yelped and flailed as she fell, hitting the back of her head on the earth with a metallic _clang. _A weak groan escaped her, the steel of her helmet humming as it vibrated from the impact with the solid ground. Astrid directed her axe straight at the woman, holding it laterally towards her neck much like Eret was doing with Drago.

"It's all over now," she asserted, and Hiccup felt pride surge up in his chest with an intense heat. Astrid had nothing to prove to him, not by a long shot, but seeing her stand against Griselda on her own and win so easily—even if the woman general wasn't doing herself many favors—made his heart skip a beat. She was so fierce and dedicated, and she proved everyone wrong at every turn no matter the task. She could do _anything._

So, when Drago chuckled despite being clearly beaten, Hiccup found himself utterly confounded, a haze in his mind that sent his mental alarm bells into overdrive, ringing a deafening toll that sent a steely shiver slithering up his spine.

"Or is it?" Drago inquired.

Hiccup instinctively looked out to sea, where the Alpha's form was still standing tall. Cloudjumper was frantically flying circles around it, the only dragon in the area. The Bewilderbeast breathed a blast of ice that snagged one of the Stormcutter's wings, and from there Cloudjumper's flight was sabotaged. The large dragon plunged downward, beating his other three wings hard enough to glide in the direction of the village and crash-land.

Hiccup paled. Their dragon force had been crippled, or at least exhausted to the point that they were out of shots. Dagur, Cami, and Thuggory had been knocked out of commission at some point in the brief time gap, and their other friends were likewise nowhere to be seen. They hadn't been able to stop Drago long enough to stop the Alpha; the beast had risen to full strength, and now there were no more dragons distracting its attention.

As Cloudjumper fell out of sight, the Alpha turned its cold gaze on Berk, and began to shuffle forward, violently kicking up waves with its small steps. Its shadow crept over the island anew, dark and strong under the morning sun.

There was another crash and Hiccup whirled around to his right. Toothless slammed into the front yard near the house, gripping Skullcrusher in his claws and driving the Rumblehorn into the dirt. The Night Fury roared furiously in the bulky dragon's face, and Skullcrusher relaxed with a pitiful whine, wearing the scratches and scrapes from their battle like badges of honor.

Something clicked in Hiccup's head, but he wasn't quite sure what. The moment of hesitation was damning, he knew that, but something was off about Toothless and it rooted him to the spot. The Night Fury's ears twitched, and he turned his head up in the direction of the Alpha, and instantly, Hiccup realized what had been bothering him.

He'd seen Toothless' ears move. Toothless' ear protection was gone.

"Toothless, your mufflers!" Hiccup shouted. The Night Fury flinched and followed his voice, but nearby, all Hel instantly broke loose.

Drago rocked his metal arm into Eret's sword with a _clang_, entrapping it in his immobile grip and yanking it from the sailor's hands. Eret whirled around to face Drago as the warlord kicked down low, connecting and sending a spear of pain straight into Eret's shin that saw him collapse and cry out, like someone had taken a war hammer to his leg. In an instant, Drago was rolling over and scrabbling away to snatch his discarded bullhook from the ground. He fastened his fingers around its shaft and lifted into the air, accompanying the move with a deafening shout.

"_NOW!" _Drago bellowed, and without hesitation, the Alpha obeyed. The colossal dragon bristled and opened its mouth, generating a massive icy breath from nothing.

"_Astrid, move!"_ Hiccup yelled. His wife dove to the left, and he to the right as the Alpha unleashed its ice, its breath striking the ground and springing up in a line of frozen spikes jutting out every which way. The ice continued to form in a straight line, tearing its way down to a section of the bottom of the hill and into the village, scattering the assembled Vikings and cleaving through an unfortunate house that was standing in the way.

Hiccup looked up from his place on the ground, disorientated by the sudden leap. Cold air cascaded off of the frozen wall behind him, and he shivered as he looked at it. It had to be twenty feet high, all made up of jagged spikes of ice that branched out like frozen tree roots. Astrid was somewhere on the other side of the wall, separated from him. Eret was nowhere to be seen, either.

"Congratulations, Dragon Master. You've delayed the inevitable," Drago's voice rattled in Hiccup's ears. Hiccup whirled around, lifting Inferno in front of him defensively. Toothless let out a warning snarl, turning on Drago from the other side, but the warlord only chuckled again and raised his bullhook into the air, waving it in long, slow circles.

Hiccup heard wingbeats all around him and he looked up, spotting countless dragons fluttering to the ground. Many of them were wearing Drago's metal plates on their heads, but a handful of them were unmarked, and some were even still wearing the ear protection he'd invented. The Alpha had broken through and its roar had corralled them into submission, finally unfettered by the dragons under Valka's command that had been preoccupying its attention.

The entranced dragons landed one by one, forming a semicircle around them. The wall of ice the Alpha had spat closed Hiccup off from the rest of the village, locking him in a frigid cage with Toothless, a madman, and a horde of hostile fire-breathing lizards.

Hiccup returned his gaze to Drago and could feel the cracks trailing along his armor, his confidence. He was sure that Drago could see it too, because the conqueror gave him a cruel smile.

"You won't get away with this. I won't let you," Hiccup tried.

Drago shook his head lightly. "I told you before: once a dragon has been broken to the Alpha's will, it cannot resist its commands." Drago turned his head to gaze at Toothless, who was looking back and forth between the controlled dragons now surrounding him. The Night Fury seemed to realize Drago was watching him and turned, blinking his chartreuse eyes. Toothless tensed, lowering on his haunches as Drago accosted him a frightening glare.

Drago pointed his bullhook at the Alpha, eyes never leaving Toothless. "So, he who controls the Alpha…" he started, and then lowered the point of his bullhook so that it was directly trained on Toothless, "controls them _all."_

Toothless flinched and turned his head, freezing as he realized the Alpha's blank gaze had fallen upon him. The Night Fury's legs went slack and Toothless lowered his head, whining.

"Toothless—" Hiccup yelped and took a step forward, only for an armored Changewing to pace forward and hiss violently. Hiccup startled, but Drago lifted a hand at the dragon and silently called it off, prompting the Changewing to return to its place in the semicircle. Emboldened, Hiccup took another few steps toward Toothless, panicked.

Toothless writhed in place, trying to fight the Alpha's influence. A haunting rush of déjà vu overwhelmed Hiccup, recalling the first time Toothless had faced the Bewilderbeast's mind. He was ten times as desperate now—they'd brought everything that the archipelago had to offer, and still they were losing. Still, this was happening. His mother had rescued Toothless from the Alpha's control during the last battle, but now he didn't even know where she was. Cloudjumper had likely crash-landed—perhaps she was on the other side of the ice wall at his back. He didn't know what everyone else was doing, but as he looked at the sky, he saw more and more dragons flitting around, none of them appearing particularly friendly even from a distance. By now, it was a decent guess to say that all of the dragons on Berk were falling under the Alpha's sway, its godlike powers now unburdened.

"Toothless, don't listen to it! I'm here, bud! Can you hear me?"

Toothless went still, his head pointed down at the ground, and then slowly rose to his full height. The Night Fury's head tilted up, and Hiccup could see his best friend's eyes as narrow as they could be, pupils so thin they were pulsing as if trying to force themselves through an invisible wall that enclosed them.

"Toothless!" Hiccup _wailed._

Drago's dark chuckle grated on his ears, a cold knife sawing painfully into the palpable tension. "He's not yours anymore. He belongs to the Alpha." Drago stamped his bullhook into the dirt, producing a short clang that caught Toothless' relative attention. The enthralled Night Fury turned his head mechanically, posture rigid and gaunt. A smile cracked across Drago's scarred face. "He belongs to _me."_

"You let Toothless go. Now!" Hiccup fumed, though he knew that his demands were completely useless. Drago wouldn't obey him in any of the nine realms. He was at the madman's mercy.

"You fight well, Dragon Master, I'll say that," Drago deflected, staring at him now. "But you lack true strength. Allow me to demonstrate it for you."

Drago lifted his weapon and pointed it straight at Hiccup, a cold glare overtaking his expression. Toothless' head pivoted so that he was likewise staring at Hiccup, pale green eyes void of any semblance of emotion. Hiccup staggered back a step, unfamiliar with such a gaze from his friend. Toothless had never looked upon him like this, not even when he had torn free from his bonds in the forest five years ago and made him ripe for the killing.

"Uh… what did he just tell you?"

Toothless took a large step forward, his sleek body twitching animalistically as he moved. The Night Fury was like a dragon-turned-draugr, limping forward as if by the command of some unseen strings.

Hiccup staggered back a step, holding out his hands. "Toothless—" he started, but a growl rattled out of Toothless' throat. "Come on, bud, stop. Stop!" A bolt of desperation ripped through his chest, tendrils of fear tingling all the way down to his toes. He hit an uneven patch of grass with his false foot as he was stepping backwards and stumbled, catching his footing only to find Toothless continuing to close in.

"Snap out of it, Toothless! What are you doing?"

Drago chuckled, following Toothless' advance slowly but surely. He kept his bullhook pointed at Toothless, ensuring that the Alpha's focus remained on the Night Fury. "He can't hear you anymore. He hears only the Alpha."

"No. No, I don't… I don't believe you," Hiccup's voice cracked. "Toothless… you'd never hurt me," he pleaded. He bumped his head on something cold and the sensation trailed down his body again—he'd backed up completely into the wall of ice. Toothless snarled, claws clenching in the dirt.

"Do you feel it now, _Hiccup?" _Drago drawled, "_This _is _true_ strength: strength of will over others. The power to command and be obeyed, with _no _hesitation."

Hiccup felt himself go weak and he collapsed to his knees, bringing him closer to Toothless' height as the Night Fury prowled forward, teeth bared.

"Toothless…" Hiccup let out a whine, broken. "It's me, bud. It's me. You know me." His hands trembled violently as he reached for his dragon, but Toothless made no move to lean toward his touch, made no croon of happiness as Hiccup begged for some semblance of his best friend.

"Isn't it fitting? The fearless Dragon Master, cowering before death at the hands of his own dragon," Drago laughed, "He's not yours anymore, but, please, oh great Dragon Master, try and take him. Show me you're stronger than… this." The warlord gestured to all of him.

Hiccup was acutely aware of all the draconic eyes on him. The reptiles were surrounding him, nearly blocking out the sun as they lined up beside one another in the sky. Drago's taunts rang in his ears, and Toothless released a hot exhale.

He had to keep trying. Even if it killed him.

"Toothless…" he whispered, inching both hands outward. The Night Fury was so close to him now, waiting at arm's length for the kill order. A faint glow flickered at the back of the dragon's throat, visible through the gaps in his serrated teeth; the Night Fury's final shot. "This isn't you, bud. I know you're in there, fighting. I know you can hear me. Keep fighting, Toothless."

Toothless sneered, bringing tears to Hiccup's eyes. "Come back to me, bud. I know you can." His hand connected with Toothless' muzzle, and the Night Fury made no move to thrash and shake him off. His black pupils shifted, growing some before the Alpha hardened its gaze on him and shrank them back, fighting to tighten its hold. Toothless let out a pathetic snarl and averted his eyes.

"It's me. I'm here. It's just you and me," he reiterated. Somewhere, Hiccup recognized that Drago had fallen completely silent. Hiccup couldn't find it in himself to care. Right now, he and Toothless were the only two living things in the world.

Hiccup nearly collapsed, lowering his head and resting it on Toothless. The Night Fury whined at the contact, gently shaking his head. There was so much _pain _in the noise, the real Toothless peeking through the cracks as his body was willed against him. Hiccup couldn't even imagine the feeling.

Hiccup opened his eyes and pulled back so that he could just see Toothless' eyes. The black scratches inside his chartreuse orbs twitched more than before, growing to two rounded squares before contracting back into slivers, but only for a second. Hiccup choked on his breath. Toothless was _right there._

Toothless pushed against his hand, almost affectionate. Hiccup set his free hand there, caressing the dragon's head with all of his fingers and letting the Night Fury nuzzle against him. He felt Toothless' warm tongue inch out and graze him.

"I-I won't let you go. I won't give up on you," Hiccup whispered, "I can't. You're my best friend."

"_Enough," _he heard Drago's voice rumble. He saw the bullhook waving in the air and heard Drago's urgent order. "Do it!"

Hiccup recognized the tone, even if he'd never heard it from the warlord before. Drago was afraid. _Good._

"_Hiccup!" _he heard Astrid's voice. His head was starting to spin; he didn't know where she was. The Alpha grumbled lowly, giving the order. Hiccup kept his hands rested against Toothless' snout, relieved when the dragon didn't buck him off. He focused on his best friend, pleading.

"You'd never hurt me, Toothless. I know that," he said, "Because I'd never hurt you, bud. Never."

He pressed his right hand completely against Toothless' snout as heat pooled under the dragon's scales, resting his forehead against it for good measure. _Please, Odin, Thor, Freya, keep Astrid safe. If you don't do anything else ever again, just please protect Astrid._

"I forgive you, bud."

There was a warbling noise.

Hiccup lifted his head, unsure if he'd just been hearing things. He tilted his gaze down, met with the sight of round, loving chartreuse eyes.

"Toothless!" he gasped, and joy exploded in his chest. "Atta boy, that's it!"

"_No!" _came Drago's roar. Hiccup looked up, eyeing the fuming conqueror. Drago's face was almost red, and a vein appeared to be endeavoring to burst from his ashen forehead. He was angrier than anything Hiccup had ever seen.

Toothless pivoted, turning to face Drago and stand beside Hiccup. Teeth bared, he let out a snarl that was oddly relieving, so undoubtedly _Toothless _that Hiccup knew he'd managed what his mother had told him. Their bond had been strong enough to break the Alpha's hold.

It went to his head. "You'll never take Toothless from me. _Ever."_

Drago sneered, his breath so scorching hot that it might as well have been smoke. "You can have him." The warlord speared his bullhook into the air, swinging it in a single arc and jabbing it at Hiccup and Toothless. _"Kill them both!"_

Hiccup flinched. There was a loud stomping sound and Toothless screeched, immediately shoving Hiccup away. Toothless turned to face the sea, his muscular tail accidentally sweeping under Hiccup's prosthetic and knocking him to the ground. As soon as he fell, he heard a panicked shriek come from the Night Fury.

There was a deafening roar, and then Hiccup felt the shaking, unable to look for the sound. A black shape fell over him an instant later, wrapped by a glacial ice blue. He was knocked down by something—he didn't exactly know what—and the ground beneath him knocked the wind from his lungs.

In an instant, everything was cold and dark. Hiccup coughed and felt weight on his chest, able to just make out the black shape in the faint vestige of light that was bleeding through the dome, a small world of ice large enough for just the two of them. He wheezed, desperate to pull air back into his chest.

"Toothless?" he groaned, dizzy and out of it. He counted his breaths and felt for the ground beneath his body. There was just a hint of a repeated thudding sound… his heartbeat, maybe?

Blue light materialized in his vision, softly at first but steadily growing brighter and brighter. Hiccup flinched at the spark of cobalt, mushrooming with each passing second. He squinted; his eyes were not yet adjusted to the sudden darkness.

Toothless' eyes shot open, and only then did Hiccup realize that he wasn't seeing things—the glow was coming from _within _Toothless. The Night Fury blinked, and the glow filled his snout, a blazing blue pulsing between two pale green eyes and branching further down the dragon's body.

Something clicked and it occurred to Hiccup that he'd seen the kind of color before. Recently, in fact. The realization snapped him out of his stupor.

And just as the light burning beneath Toothless' scales became blinding, his ears filled with the Night Fury's telltale scream.

* * *

Goosebumps struck across Astrid's back as she lunged out of the way, the air at her back igniting in a flash freeze. It was like being caught outside when an ice storm hit Berk, the temperature plummeting impossibly low in an instant as a wall of ice seemingly materialized where she'd just been standing. She caught herself on all fours and staggered away, regaining her footing and whirling around to see what she'd just avoided.

Jagged spikes of blue-green ice sprawled outward from the ground up, a great frozen barricade twenty feet high dividing the hill leading up to Stoick's house. Frigid mist danced off of the wall, melting into nothingness as it cascaded to the ground. Astrid couldn't help but drop back a step out of sheer awe. She realized that she was alone, now. Griselda hadn't been able to follow her and escape the ice. Drago had willingly forsaken her; he was getting desperate.

Groaning reached her ears and Astrid looked further down the wall, spotting a huddled shape wearing a fur vest on the ground. One arm was scrabbling against the dirt, the fallen person tugging himself away from the icy barrier and having great difficulty doing so.

Astrid bolted over to Eret, dropping to one knee beside him. He reluctantly relaxed upon recognizing her and Astrid followed his gaze down to his leg, where a long rash of black was staining the skin.

"That'll form a generous bruise," Astrid observed. Eret grunted.

"I'm fine," Eret insisted. Astrid rapped her knuckles against his leg and felt only a dash of guilt as he bit back a pained cry.

"Okay, maybe more than a bruise," she analyzed with a wince.

"As if I don't have enough to deal with," Eret allowed himself a chuckle, looking at Astrid slyly, "For the record, I blame you for all of these." He gestured along his entire body, calling attention to the injuries he'd sustained just in the last week since they'd met. His face succumbed to the gravity of the situation and he glanced at the wall of ice again. "Hiccup's stuck on the other side."

"I know. I'm going to get him. You stay—"

"Astrid!"

Astrid looked over her shoulder, spotting Ruffnut running up to her and Eret. Behind her, Vikings had packed the roads leading up to the hill. Their weapons were slathered in gore, and those that remained of Drago's forces were on their knees in front of them, swearing surrenders and begging for mercy. All that was left was Drago.

Ruffnut came skidding to a stop beside her, gaping at Eret's busted leg. Astrid breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, Ruff, perfect. Take care of Eret for me, I need to get over this thing and get to Hiccup," Astrid asserted. She returned her axe to her back and flexed her fingers, ready to grab onto the uneven ice spikes and climb over. It wouldn't be hard; she'd climbed higher surfaces before.

"Are you crazy?" _Yes. _"You can't go over there by yourself," Ruffnut objected.

The sound of the Alpha's roar stopped her from doing so. It was loud and ear-rending, more powerful than anything she'd heard come from a dragon besides the Red Death. Immediately, black shapes emerged from all around; some came from the port, others from the village, and others still winged into the air from the ground.

Astrid gasped. "Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no—"

She looked over her shoulder and watched as dragons flocked behind them, orbiting the horde of Vikings on the ground. There were dozens, perhaps hundreds of them, and the Vikings all raised their shields protectively as the beasts began to circle them. They didn't fire, however, allowing their haunting presence to make the Vikings go completely still with anticipation.

"The Alpha…" Eret bemoaned.

"They're doing whatever it wants…" Ruffnut said in awe. It was her first experience of the Alpha's power—everything she'd been told was finally being proven. She saw something in the distance and let out a wail, "Barf!" Astrid's heart broke. Her dragon must've fallen under the Alpha's control.

"I'll be back," Astrid promised, "Barf'll be fine, Ruff—"

"But Astrid—"

"We don't have a choice anymore," Astrid cut the Thorston girl off with a glare.

Something landed at Astrid's back and dashed her thoughts. The _thud_ made the ground vibrate, and a short, strangled squawk found her ears, freezing her in place. Ruffnut tensed, and goosebumps flared across Astrid's back again, this time out of a different kind of horror. Even if it was distorted, she'd know that squawk anywhere.

Astrid turned around, hoping that it wasn't true. She still had it in her to gasp as her eyes showed her brilliant blue scales and a crown of proud spikes framing the head of the dragon in front of her. The Nadder's pupils were paper-thin, vibrating inside her golden irises. Astrid's heart sank, a pang of misery thrumming in her chest like a thunderclap.

"Stormfly…" she managed to whimper. The Nadder made another garroted trill, though it was impossible to say whether the noise was in response to her name or just another hostile taunt.

Astrid took a cautious step forward. Stormfly hissed twice as hard and showed the back of her throat. An orange light manifested at the back, but only a few sparks managed to emerge. She hadn't had the time or the rest necessary to develop another shot, her flame bladder completely spent. Boldly, Astrid took another step forward.

"Astrid, _what _are you doing?" Ruffnut whispered harshly.

"Be careful!" Eret added.

"She won't hurt me. I know she won't."

Stormfly's tail slithered into view and the spikes running down it extended and retracted repeatedly, like she was trying to decide whether or not to use them.

"Looks to me like she wants to!" Ruff hissed.

"She won't. I'm not afraid of her. I'll _never _be afraid of her," Astrid hissed. It was stupid, she knew that as she crept closer to her dragon, hypnotized by the monstrous Alpha hovering over them. She had two lives to protect; her own, and her baby's. She was endangering both of them by approaching Stormfly in this state. The Nadder's razor-thin pupils shifted back and forth, rapidly expanding and shrinking. She was fighting, Astrid could see it. Stormfly was still in there, and she would get her girl out.

"Come back to me, Stormfly. I know you're in there." Stormfly hummed, blinking as her pupils flickered from round to narrow, "I know you recognize me. It's Astrid, girl."

The spines on Stormfly's tail extended again. Astrid held up two hands, showing the enthralled Nadder that she meant her no harm. "Easy, easy…" she cooed. Stormfly hummed and her tail spines lowered. "That's it." She looked over her shoulder and gestured for Ruffnut to help Eret out of the Nadder's immediate range. The Thorston girl slowly lifted Eret to his feet and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, holding him up as he limped along with her on one leg. Astrid kept her dragon's focus solely on her.

Astrid chanced a look at the Alpha. The enormous beast was glaring down elsewhere, not focused on Stormfly. This could be her chance to break its hold; if the Alpha wasn't reinforcing its will on Stormfly, she might have a shot. She drew closer to Stormfly, so much so that she could feel the Nadder's breath on her face. It was hot and rapid, a constant panicked wheezing that was so uncharacteristic for her girl, just another part of the monster Drago was trying to turn her into.

Astrid dared to reach up for Stormfly's neck. The Nadder hissed and pulled back, tugging her head away but doing nothing more. Her eyes were still so narrow, the Alpha's poison circulating through her, but she wasn't being outright hostile. That was progress. She tried again and though Stormfly seemed displeased, Astrid was allowed to rub the Nadder's neck.

The effect was almost instantaneous. Even in her enthralled state, Stormfly hummed. Astrid allowed herself a small smile. It seemed some tricks would always work, even on a dragon controlled by an Alpha.

She wasn't willing to push her luck, though. As soon as she found the sweet spot, she scratched and then delivered a wicked pinch. Another strangled squawk pierced Astrid's ears and Stormfly collapsed, hitting the dirt with a hollow thud. With the threat gone, Astrid whispered a brief apology and then made a beeline for the wall. She grabbed the first spike above her head and tugged herself up, grunting at both the strain and the uncomfortable sting of the cold on her hands. Astrid toughed it out—she was a Viking, Thor damn it. What was it Gobber said? _Yer Vikings, everything's__cold._

That was how she went, forcing herself up rung after rung and scaling the frozen wall. She drew farther and farther away from the ground, until finally she reached the top.

Astrid poked her head above the ice wall, seizing at what she saw. To her right, Toothless was dangerously close to Hiccup, much in the same state that Stormfly had been. One look at the Alpha verified that the enormous beast was staring straight at Toothless, puppeteering the Night Fury closer.

"_Enough! Do it!" _Astrid glanced at Drago, and it all came together. A bolt of fear zapped through her. Toothless was being ordered to _kill._

She screamed.

"Hiccup!"

He kept trying to talk to Toothless—Astrid couldn't hear him. She was too focused on crawling over the edge of the wall and climbing down. It was much the same as the trip up, jagged spikes jutting out every which way. She had to go much slower than she would've liked, careful not to lose her grip and slip. Such a mistake from this height would certainly be fatal—if not for her, then for the child growing within her.

That lack of speed proved ruinous. She heard Drago scream something else along the lines of _kill _and _both _but didn't process it. She was just a few feet from the ground when she felt the Alpha stomp forward and breathe in, its mere inhalation so mighty that it came out as a rasping, throaty growl.

Then she felt the rush of cold and snapped her head up to see the blast of ice beam toward the ground, aimed straight at her husband. She screamed, but the sound was totally drowned out by the noise of the icy blast, and she managed to see Toothless dart in front of Hiccup just before the ice completely encased them.

"_No!" _she wailed, and she outright jumped the last few feet to the ground. Her feet complained as she hit the dirt, but she vehemently ignored them and bolted to the uneven frozen cage. The ice carved a swathe along the ground not unlike the large wall of ice behind her, albeit lower to the ground and much more concentrated. Where Toothless and Hiccup had been standing, waves of craggy ice rose up to a form a jagged sort of sphere. Light reflected off of the frozen shell but didn't penetrate it.

They were _gone._

Astrid fell to her knees as she reached the block of ice, yanking her axe free from her back and swinging at it with abandon. The steel did nothing to cut into the ice—it was as hard as a rock. She stubbornly tried again, and again, and again. She heard Drago chuckle, but didn't bother to look for him or answer him with one of the tormented screams swirling through her head and drumming against her skull, begging her to just open her mouth and unleash the roiling pain inside her.

Her strikes grew weaker until she finally stopped, losing her grip on the axe and not caring when it fell lamely to the grass. Tears pricked at her eyes, and for once she let them fall. Astrid wasn't accustomed to crying, but right now, it was the only thing that felt right. She instinctively curled her left arm around her belly, the reality of her child growing up without its father sticking in her mind and pulsing like her heartbeat, reminding her again and again and again of its presence.

"No. No, no, this can't be happening," she stammered, completely losing all semblance of stoic composure. "Please, gods, don't do this, _please,_ no…" her rambling continued, accompanied by a high-pitched keening soft enough that only she could hear it.

The hum reached her ears, but for a few seconds she didn't register it. She pleaded under her breath a few more times, begging for everything to be some horrible, long-lasting dream. Hoping she'd wake up safely wrapped in her husband's arms, ready to face another day with all memory of this terror totally forgotten.

The hum grew to a scream, and she realized with a start that she wasn't imagining it. Astrid glanced up, her vision filling with a cobalt blue glow. Instinct took over, the only thing she knew to do was to rise to her feet and back away at full speed. She took up her axe as she bolted, all manner of possibilities running through her mind in the few remaining seconds before the frozen sphere _exploded._

She heard the unmistakable roar of a Night Fury and whirled around, staggering back one final step as she took in the sight. Shards of ice scattered along the ground; the uneven ball that had been their prison shattered completely. Hiccup was resting on his elbows, looking up from the ground with a blank, stunned expression, like he didn't know what face to make. And Toothless…

The Night Fury stood protectively over him; his black scales inundated with a bold cobalt glow shining from somewhere deep within. Toothless let out another earth-shattering roar, conveying a raw, untested power that he'd never displayed before.

"_What!?" _Drago's roar filled the void, but again, Astrid didn't search for him. Toothless glanced down at Hiccup, who gave an almost imperceptible nod before the Night Fury turned around and bounded away. He winged into the air, flapping furiously to generate just enough thrust to reach the top of the ice wall before letting out another deafening roar.

Astrid turned her head to face Hiccup again, who was crawling to his feet and staring at Toothless. His name spilled from her lips in a desperate cry and she raced forward.

"Astrid?" she saw him say, rather than heard. She reached him and let her axe fall again, using her newly freed hand to yank him into her. His armor clapped against her shoulder pad and she buried her face into the crook of his neck, gripping him as tight as she could to ensure that he couldn't get away. The action felt almost weak to her, but the heat radiating from him assured her that he was real and any hint of shame within her evaporated.

"I thought I lost you," she managed.

Hiccup squeezed her, and she felt his chin brush against her hair as he shook his head. "Never, milady." Another roar from Toothless and she felt him go tense. "Astrid, look!"

Astrid looked over her shoulder to see Toothless fire a pulsing plasma blast straight at the Alpha. The burst exploded upon contact with the colossal dragon's head, carrying even more strength than usual and knocking the titan back a step. Black shapes lifted up from over the wall, flapping closer and closer until the light began to reflect off of their scales.

Hiccup gasped. "He's challenging the Alpha!"

Toothless roared again, and in response, several dragons at the front of the pack unleashed torrents of fire, spurts of rebellion against the Bewilderbeast. Others followed suit, painting the Alpha's scales with their flames.

Another shape lifted over the ice wall, stopping short to fly a short circle around Toothless. The sun reflected off of the dragon's bright blue scales and Astrid's face flushed with relief. "Stormfly!" she called, though the Nadder kept flapping away to join her fellow dragons. A dozen armored dragons launched off of the hill, shaking free from the Bewilderbeast's command and answering Toothless' call.

"_No, no, no!" _Drago's panicked howl shattered the air. Astrid and Hiccup looked to the warlord, still standing a safe distance away but staring at his Alpha as hordes of dragons rebelled against it. He seemed to realize he was being watched and turned on his heel, spotting them and succumbing to a murderous glare.

"_You."_

Astrid felt her muscles tighten. Her axe was at her feet, ready to be picked up again. "Just like old times?" she asked, keeping her eyes on Drago as the warlord leveled his bullhook at them savagely.

She heard Inferno ignite, a burst of heat rolling off of its blade and bringing another rush of warmth to her skin. "Just like old times," came Hiccup's reply, and as if he'd been waiting for Hiccup to say that, Drago sprinted at them, running with a thunderous gait that Astrid hadn't thought the man capable of.

"Now!" Astrid snapped, and they both lunged in opposite directions, allowing Drago to spear his bullhook forward through thin air. Astrid spun on her heels and brought her axe hurtling around in front of her. The blade clanged against Drago's bullhook and she stepped back, giving herself some space as Drago deflected Hiccup's own attack. Drago backpedaled and they converged on him from the front, so the warlord slid his fist up to the center of the long shaft in order to defend himself against them both. He was actually rather impressive as he spun his bullhook, keeping both of them from getting either of their weapons close.

"You can't win," Drago blustered as he parried a swing of her axe and backpedaled some more. "You won't!"

"Don't you get it, yet?" Hiccup shot back. He stuck his arm out and opened his palm, gesturing to Toothless and the horde of dragons blasting at the Alpha. "This is what it is to earn a dragon's loyalty. Without trust, you'll never win." Drago sneered at him. "Surrender. And let this end."

Drago snarled, "Never!" and then charged at them again, going on the offensive. He swung his bullhook with wild abandon. Astrid raised her axe to parry and staggered back as their weapons collided. Drago peeled back and spun his weapon over his head, delivering a blistering flurry of strikes that kept Astrid and Hiccup both on their back feet, forcing them to twist their weapons back and forth to keep from being torn into.

Drago lifted his bullhook into the air again, shifting his hand down to the end of the shaft so that he could swing it in a wide arc. Astrid bent her knees and ducked, diving forward as the weapon came hurtling around at her first. She landed on her shoulder as she heard a _whoosh _above her, closely followed by an ear-rending screech of steel. Astrid whirled around on the ground and looked up to see that Hiccup had caught Drago's bullhook with Inferno, slotting the sharp point of the shaft in between the blade. He'd spread his feet wide, keeping his balance as Drago tried to rip his weapon free.

Her chance was as clear as day.

Astrid rose to her feet with an almost triumphant bluster, now standing directly behind Drago. With Hiccup preoccupying him in front, the warlord wasn't equipped to stop her. She took a damning step forward and reared back her axe, furiously focused as she swung it in a lethal arc. Her axe met the flesh of Drago's upper back, cleaving horizontally through his clothes and into the muscular skin underneath. She kept going, carving a brutal line through his shoulder and finally hearing a _ping _of steel as her axe met Drago's prosthetic arm, separating it completely from its resting place on his shoulder. The disembodied appendage plummeted to the ground, and Drago's bloodcurdling scream finally tore through her ears, a deep, deafening howl of agony.

The conqueror collapsed to his knees, blood spilling from the wound across his back and staining his clothes. The dragonskin cloak hanging from his left pauldron was in tatters, a casualty of Astrid's axe, and Drago's fist weakly relaxed to drop his bullhook into the dirt. The enormous man's fall revealed Hiccup to her now, standing with slightly bent knees and winding his right arm across his chest to protect himself, Inferno's burning blade spearing outward over it.

Drago managed several gaunt breaths as Hiccup carefully lowered his weapon. Astrid walked around from the warlord's back, digging her foot underneath the severed prosthetic arm and kicking it out of reach. She sent the bullhook skittering away as well, leaving Drago almost literally unarmed.

Toothless let out another earsplitting roar and explosions promptly erupted along the wall of ice dividing the hill. The Night Fury bounded away, clambering upon a frozen spike growing from the ground, and the barricade began to melt under a sea of fire until it was little more than a massive freezing slush, and Vikings waded through and surged up the hill as one, numbering in the hundreds and sending thunderous war cries into the air. The dragons that had lent their aid to melt the ice winged off into the sky, joining the fray of dragons battling the Alpha. The beasts nearly blocked out the sun, though far less ominously this time, rocking the Bewilderbeast's body with a seemingly endless barrage of fire that generated enormous clouds of smoke all around it.

Astrid looked over to see Valka emerging from the Viking horde. The woman saw her and Hiccup and bolted over, face creasing with relief.

"Mom!" Hiccup gushed. They embraced, Valka tucking her son's head into her shoulder and combing a few fingers through his long hair. Her expression was one of raw pride—and it seemingly shed years from the woman's life, making her appear young and vibrant.

"The color, Hiccup…" she whispered, "It's the same as the stone in the mountain."

Hiccup nodded quickly. "I know. He must be channeling its power somehow. The last Alpha that lived there must've left it behind."

"And Toothless unlocked it," Valka asserted.

Drago's incensed roar interrupted them, but he wasn't shouting at them. "Fight back! _Do _something!" he hollered, but if the Alpha heard his voice, it made no move to obey. It was too busy being battered by the very dragons it had just been lording over.

The barrage subsided and the Alpha shook its enormous body, banishing much of the blinding smoke that surrounded it, and mustered a roar. The sound was weaker than before, strangled, and the giant dragon was noticeably exhausted, tendrils of scorching vapor dancing off of its body.

Toothless stood in the center of it all holding onto a spike of ice that protruded out from the ground towards the Alpha, grounded yet stronger than ever. The Night Fury answered with a roar of his own, far louder as azure light flared underneath his scales. The hordes of dragons circling them both sent up a chorus of answering roars in one combined rejection. Something flashed across the Alpha's face—shock, maybe? —as it looked around, disregarded by the dragons it had once dominated.

Toothless barked and two Monstrous Nightmares flapped in close to the Bewilderbeast. The colossal dragon flinched back (and how odd was that? The Alpha was many times their size, but its newfound inability to control them had it shaking with fear), but the Nightmares instead focused on the giant manacles adorning the Alpha's great tusks. They reared up and unleashed their gel-like flames on the steel, breathing and breathing until the steel turned a bright orange and flaked apart, plummeting in pieces to the sea below.

The Bewilderbeast gaped as it watched the ruined fetters fall away, its attention regained only by Toothless' resulting snarl. The Night Fury gnashed his teeth together in a series of commanding sneers directed at the enormous dragon.

The sentiment was clear. _Leave, and never return. _Destroying the Alpha's shackles had been a final act of kindness, but it hadn't come without a price. The fearsome gray-scaled beast let out a pitiful whimper and, without any further resistance, turned its back and catapulted into the sea, generating a tremendous splash that climbed from the water's surface over the edge of the island, the resulting spray of salt fizzing in the air.

The dragons screeched, a triumphant ululating as the Bewilderbeast departed Berk. A great cheer stirred up in the horde of Vikings around them, axes and swords and hammers raising into the air to be shook with vigorous exhilaration. Astrid knew the sound well; there would be a tremendous feast tonight.

She looked at Hiccup and a smile cracked her face. She felt all the tension and desperation instantly melt away, and her knees wobbled as she started to fall. Hiccup caught her easily, holding her against his chest. He chuckled; a dry baritone laugh that signaled all the weight rising off his troubled shoulders.

"It's over now," he said, and squeezed her. "It's all over."

The raspy rattle of Drago Bludvist's voice made Astrid freeze. A steely chill skulked up her spine as she listened, the conqueror descending into a fit of incoherent madness.

Astrid turned, still leaning against Hiccup. Drago was still sitting there on his knees, one-armed and pathetic, but all the malice and fury that seemingly always governed his face was still there. He was quietly seething, the terrible lines cracking his face smoldering with a toxic revulsion as he glowered at them both.

And then he _moved._

The motion was awkward and unbalanced, but no less terrifying. Drago curled his one remaining arm around his waist and surged to his feet, leaning forward a hair and bellowing. He brought his hand back into view, clenching a fist around the handle of a small but visibly sharp knife.

"_I won't lose!"_

Astrid tried to surge forward, intending to acquaint Drago's face with the blade of her axe and put him down for good. She would've kept going, if not for Hiccup reaching out to keep her from moving forward. She barely registered him speaking to her, for it was more of a panicked, involuntary shout than anything.

"Astrid, move!"

And then her world spun as he pushed her out of harm's way. Astrid stumbled and hit the ground on her rear as she heard Toothless' roar, a terrified noise that she wasn't used to. She could already see the Night Fury sprinting from his kingly perch, but there was no way he could make it from that far and intercept Drago.

She screamed. Again.

"_HICCUP!"_

But he was already meeting Drago in her place. He spun Inferno with all the grace of a god, its flames arcing behind the blade like a thousand blazing tongues. Drago zeroed in on him and raised his knife high, teeth bared in a terrible snarl. He was without mercy, and in the face of defeat, it seemed the man had suddenly and irreparably snapped.

Hiccup's sword went up to meet Drago's knife, a matchup that would've felt truly pathetic were Drago not so terrifying just on his own. With incredible dexterity, Hiccup snared Drago's knife with Inferno and yanked it free, twisting his weapon down to cast the knife aside. And in another fluid motion, he twisted the sword back around and thrusted, not even a fraction of a second offered so he could consider the action.

Hiccup seemed to realize it too, just before Drago crashed into him, running himself through on Hiccup's sword. Hiccup's face contorted in pain as Drago tackled him, both men tumbling to the ground in a heap.

Astrid was already running, all the tension she'd just released piling back on like a barrage of hailstones. Valka mirrored her, sprinting from the other side to the heap that was her son and Drago Bludvist. Astrid just barely got there first and dropped to her knees, Valka sliding in from his other side.

"Hiccup!"

"Son!"

Their cries were almost identical, the panic and concern evident in both of their tones. Astrid looked up to meet Valka's eyes, and an unspoken understanding passed between them. Toothless skidded into their vicinity with a rueful bay, nosing past Valka and whimpering. Astrid reached out to stroke Toothless' snout. The cobalt glow that the Night Fury had generated was gone now, but there was an undeniable aura around the black dragon that something had clearly changed.

"Toothless, help us?" Astrid asked, and she braced herself as Toothless glanced at the body on top of his rider and understood. He positioned himself beside Valka and pushed, helping to drag Drago's body off of Hiccup. Inferno still stuck out of his back, and Hiccup must've lost his grip on the weapon, because it remained in Drago's chest as they pulled him away. Astrid pulled, and once she could reach the hilt, she fastened her fingers around it. Eager to get her hands off of the corpse, she used her foot to shove Drago's body off the blade and away from herself, resolutely ignoring the wet _thud _that it hit the dirt with.

Astrid whipped her head back around to find the sun falling on Hiccup's face, and she instantly broke, looking into his very much alive green eyes. Conflict swirled in his emerald irises, the weight of what he'd just done trickling down from them across his face and making him shake.

Astrid dropped the sword and practically laid on top of Hiccup as she hugged him, on the verge of tears as she tangled her fingers in his air as if to make sure he was real and not giving one damn who thought what upon seeing her. She didn't need to explain herself to anyone.

Hiccup's pained groan sent her reeling back, struck with the sudden thought that she could be hurting him in her elation. He was holding his wrist with one hand, which was in turn clutching a part of his torso.

"My boy," Valka nearly whispered, her voice hoarse and scratching, "What hurts?"

"Everything," Hiccup coughed out, a ghost of a smile materializing on his lips. He glanced down, surely eyeing Drago's lifeless body nearby, and that smile melted into a horrified frown. "I… I-I h-had to," he croaked, "I didn't even think about it, I just did it. I didn't even care—"

"Hey, _hey._" Astrid snatched his free hand and squeezed, getting Hiccup's focus solely on her. She was _not _going to let him beat himself up over this. "He made you do it. He'll never hurt anyone ever again, human or dragon, because of you." She watched his Adam's apple bob as he gulped, considering her for a moment and then slowly nodding. Astrid had a feeling he wasn't totally convinced yet; she'd have to reinforce her words. He was stubborn like that.

"Astrid's right, Hiccup," Valka said. Astrid sent her a quick, grateful smile. "Now, can you walk?"

Hiccup nodded, swallowing once before answering her. "Yeah. Help me up." Astrid clasped his free hand and Hiccup drew his legs in so he could power himself up. He groaned as he stood, though Astrid couldn't be sure if it was his wrist, his torso, or something else. A cheer stirred up in the crowd as people saw the heir rising to his feet, growing into a full-on raucous howl of triumph as Astrid and Valka helped him turn so that he could face everyone.

"Somebody get a healer!" Astrid shouted, but she saw Hiccup shake his head out of the corner of her eye.

"No. I can manage for now. Make sure our wounded get treatment first," he said, and Astrid nodded in agreement. He tightened his hold around her shoulder and bit back a groan of pain as he held his side. From the looks of it, Astrid guessed that he might have a broken rib.

"_Hey, look! It's the Chief!"_

Astrid turned her head to look over her shoulder, feeling Hiccup tense as he did the same. Sure enough, Stoick the Vast was cresting over the hill, his two massive arms curled around the shoulders of two burly Vikings so he could hobble along as gingerly as possible. His full red beard was unkempt and there were streaks of grime now visible in various places along his face resulting from days of imprisonment. Movement appeared noticeably difficult for him, but Stoick was hard-faced and determined to continue on.

Vikings erupted at the sight of the Chief of Berk, deafening cheers of triumph exploding from every corner of the mob. Hoark and Ack surged from the crowd to relieve the men that had been carrying Stoick along, and they helped him hobble closer.

Stoick, Astrid noticed, appeared to be focusing on everything other than the obvious scene of victory before him. His green eyes were darting around almost wildly, like he was searching for something. He glanced over in Hiccup and Astrid's direction, and then past them, and he froze, disbelief striking across his hardened features and banishing the wrinkles of effort that had creased beneath his eyes.

"_Stop, stop. Wait," _he mumbled, Astrid reading his lips to discern his words. Hoark and Ack nearly skidded to a stop, having been triumphantly sauntering along with the Chief on their arms, and Stoick's emerald gaze blazed past Astrid, his body like a frozen statue except for the staggered rise and fall of his chest.

In the back of her mind, Astrid knew what he was looking at. It clicked and made perfect sense, but still she looked over her other shoulder to confirm her suspicion. She saw the woman staring with identical surprise, emotions roiling through her in a riptide of pain. Still, even though she was not surprised, Astrid's breath hitched hard, frowning as she felt a geyser of empathy for her mother-in-law rush up from somewhere within her.

Astrid had been in the prisons with Hiccup when he revealed Valka's survival to Stoick. He'd had time to stew over the news as he was escorted to safety. But the truth was, he could've waited another twenty years, and all that time to process the knowledge would've done nothing to soften the blow of actually seeing his long-lost wife in the flesh.

"Val?" Stoick asked, his voice soft and scratchy.

Valka, somehow, looked even more shaken than the Chief. "Hello, Stoick," she managed, and it seemed as if adding anything more would bring her physical pain, because she sealed her lips shut in order to fight back any tears. Cloudjumper landed behind her, casting his great shadow over the woman.

Stoick reluctantly averted his eyes from her, eyeing the Stormcutter with a mix of different emotions before his gaze apparently fell on Drago's bleeding corpse. He squared his shoulders and tightened his features. "Fill me in," he said.

"It's over. The Alpha is gone, and what's left of Drago's army has surrendered, Chief," Hoark reported.

"But he didn't," Hiccup interjected, gesturing to Drago's body on the ground as he leaned on Astrid. Stoick's green eyes flashed with concern as he noticed the way Hiccup was clutching different parts of his body.

"You're hurt," growled Stoick.

"Others are in worse condition," Hiccup said, "they need treatment."

"Where's Gothi?"

"At the Steppingstones with a few extra healers. We have enough trained in battlefield medicine, but we'll need her for everything else."

Stoick nodded firmly. "Send a rider."

It was Valka, though, that answered. "Already on it," she said, drawing the attention back to her. She was standing atop Cloudjumper and had pulled her mask down to hide her face. Cloudjumper immediately spread his gigantic wings and lifted off, the downdraft of his wingbeats kicking up a powerful gust that forced many of the Vikings below them to shield their faces.

As soon as he could manage, Stoick was shouting after her. "Valka, wait!"

"Mom!" Hiccup added, but it was immediately clear that she wasn't going to heed their calls. Her shape rapidly shrank as Cloudjumper flew off. Astrid glanced over her shoulder at Stoick, staring at the sky with a heartbroken look on his face. She felt for him. Valka had made it sound like she would return, but she had still taken off in the first place. Stoick had likely been entertaining some sort of grand reunion in his head upon seeing her, and she had fled before he could even speak to her. That had to hurt.

The Chief's eyes flashed with anger, his fiery-red beard seemingly burning. "Throw the invaders in the prisons," he said coldly, and without question several Vikings swarmed around the men of Drago's army. "We'll deal with them later. Until then, we have their mess to clean up."

Hoark and Ack guided Stoick along, the wounded Chief bellowing orders and doing what he could to distract himself from his fleeing wife. Hiccup continued to watch the sky, staring at Cloudjumper's receding silhouette.

"Hey," Astrid said, reaching up to gently grab his chin and tugging his face in her direction. He tried to smile, but the emotion didn't quite reach his eyes. "She'll be back. For now, let's get you some rest. Can't have you hurting yourself even worse."

Hiccup squeezed her hand. "Yeah," he said, pausing to take a deep breath, "Yeah, okay. I'd like that."

Astrid reaffixed her arm around his shoulder, supporting him, and helped him start to walk in the direction of Stoick's house. Hiccup limped up the hill, but there was a respite to his gait that hadn't been there before. He looked more relaxed, more at peace, than she'd seen him in far too long.

And though there was still much more to resolve in the coming hours alone, Astrid found that it was good enough for her.

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**Once again, if you enjoyed this chapter (or hated it) please consider sending me a review. Any and all feedback is welcome, whether you want to praise me or trash me.**

**That wraps up the Battle of Berk arc! We've got one more main story chapter to get through followed by an epilogue that I hope will leave everyone satisfied. I quite like it, after all. Thanks for reading, and I'll see you all on June 20th.**


	25. Voices of Peace

**Here we are, the last main chapter of the story! Only the epilogue remains after this.**

**I hope this one wraps up the conflicts well enough. It's far from perfect, but I think it's a logical enough endpoint. Thanks for reading, and I hope a bunch of you will be so kind as to post a review after you're done reading. All feedback, positive or negative, is greatly appreciated. **

**[6/27]: Changed the chapter title again because the new one is clearly better.**

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_**25\. Voices of Peace**_

Valka talked to herself for the entire flight out. It had been easy to spot Gothi and her company of healers once the tiny island came into view, and even easier to load all of them onto Cloudjumper's back before heading back for Berk. No one dared say a word on the return trip, but she felt Gothi's eyes on her back the entire time. Valka was too afraid to look back and read whatever was in the old woman's eyes.

When they reached Berk again, Valka directed Cloudjumper to land in the center of the ravaged village and let the healers dismount before promptly taking off again. She didn't want to be flagged down by Stoick or Hiccup. There was no doubt that they'd seen her, wherever they were, but they thankfully let her be as she headed for the eastern cliffs. She sent Cloudjumper into a chaotic landing on the bluffs, and for the first time in hours felt that she could finally begin to relax.

From those highlands beyond the village, she had a good view of the devastation. Ice had infested the island, shimmering with a blue-green glow in the morning sun. The frost might've been beautiful, were it not surrounded by scorched land and decimated houses. There were a handful of destroyed dragon traps in different areas of the village, and in the harbor stood a massive collection of warships of all shapes and sizes. The longships of the victorious Vikings were most plentiful, outnumbering the remaining sleek warships of Drago's army. The conqueror's flagship remained in the center of it all, completely devoid of life as it bobbed on the surface.

The day passed her by with surprising quickness. Berk was fairly quiet as healers made the rounds of the village treating the wounded. A few hours later, she spotted Hiccup against the sky, heading for Gothi's perch high above the village, which had incredibly survived the battles below it. Along with Astrid and Stormfly, he landed on the hut's porch and disappeared inside—probably to have his own injuries checked out. He'd been adamant that he didn't need immediate treatment, for there were far more Vikings with worse injuries than him.

Valka stayed on the cliff all day, waiting. Composing herself for the moment that she would have to face Stoick. She knew there was no escaping it; she owed him an explanation. She could already hear him shouting at her, angered beyond compare once he learned the full truth of her 'death'. Hiccup had been angry with her, but there was no describing the fury that would surely ignite within Stoick the Vast's heart.

The saddest part was that Valka deserved to be screamed at, deserved to be made to pay for all of the anguish and mourning she'd inspired. Stoick would be justified in his anger.

She looked over the edge of the precipice as if for inspiration. Hundreds of feet below her, the waves crashed against the rocks, hissing as the sea salt painted them and wafted into the air. She watched the water push and pull in its eternal, unstoppable dance. There seemed to be an unusual jubilance in their motion, odd until she considered that the sea, in all its vastness, was free of Drago Bludvist for the first time in many, many years. His scourge had been built on its surface, growing like a cancer on the waves until today.

Perhaps Njord was thanking them, praising them for their courage. Showing gratitude to them for doing what the god could not.

Valka straightened her posture as she looked up again. She needed to be brave, like her son had been today, and face her demons. Face her mistakes. She needed to enter her old home, brush her fingers against the wooden supports and the tables and feel the warmth of the hearth she had so loved when she'd lived there. They were part of her past, and she knew that they had to be part of her future now, too. She owed it to her family after causing them twenty years of pain.

Cloudjumper grunted beside her, as if knowing what troubled her. Their bond was a close one, unrivaled by any in her life. She reached up a careful hand, eyeing the unique guards on her armor that reached over her fist, and the Stormcutter gently lowered his head to place his skull against her head. The great dragon's golden eyes flicked shut and he exhaled with a deep, resounding rumble.

"Thank you, Cloudjumper," Valka sighed.

She turned around and took a few quick, aimless steps away from the cliffside before realizing someone was in front of her. She skidded to a halt, recognizing the beard and red hair. The helmet, she recognized, was new, or at least it was to her. He'd removed it as if in reverence, holding it in his lap.

Stoick the Vast was sitting in a chair. Well, not quite a chair. There were wheels at its base fashioned from wood, resting on the ground where the legs of the chair might normally be. His legs, gratuitously bandaged, rested on an inclined plane that jutted out from the strange seat so that they wouldn't scrape the ground. Without watching the contraption in action, she deduced that its purpose was to allow him to move around without assistance. As ridiculous as it was, she had no doubt that he preferred the device to being guided around everywhere by two men, his devotion to the old macho "Viking Way" be damned.

Valka's eyes trailed back up his body, crammed into the strange chair, and she recognized with a start that he was staring at her in sheer awe, the same look he'd been giving her that morning when he saw her just before she'd fled. Valka gulped. She had to say something. Anything. But her throat was as dry as could be, and her lips were sealed shut by her own fear.

Cloudjumper breathed and then spread his enormous wings, taking off into the air and leaving Valka alone with her long-lost husband. She couldn't find it in herself to disapprove of the dragon's action, even if she tried. This was between her and Stoick, and she could not run anymore. Cloudjumper seemed to know that. Perhaps that was why he had not alerted her to Stoick's presence. There was no way he had only noticed at the same time Valka did. The dragon had most definitely known.

Valka returned her gaze to her lost husband, somber. Stoick started to open his mouth, slowly, and Valka forced herself to jump out and steal the first word from him. If he was going to scream at her, she had to at least get a word in edgewise first.

"I… I know what you're going to say, Stoick," she blurted out. Stoick closed his mouth, his emerald eyes trembling as he looked upon her like she was a dream. He let his hands fall to the wheels on his chair, rolling himself forward carefully and beginning to close the distance between them.

Valka's heart hammered harder in her chest with every inch that he went, like he was a vise slowly closing its jaws tighter and tighter against her. "How could I have done this? How could I have stayed away all these years, and why didn't I come back to you? To our son?"

He stopped, waiting directly in front of her now with nothing left to separate them but the rigid air. He looked at her with _such _longing, his bottom lip shuddering a bit at the sight of her. His monstrous beard had been cleaned and brushed since she'd seen him that morning, the collection of little braids he'd taken to shaping in the facial hair conspicuously absent for the time being.

The twenty-year gap between them seared Valka's very skin, causing her to break a sweat just by being in his gaze. Cracks scattered across her enduring façade, made no better as Stoick started to roll himself forward again, his gawking stare unwavering, like he was seeing her for the very first time. Valka wanted to cry out, but she couldn't find the strength to do much more than sniffle. Stoick's expression was killing her, his silence like a greatsword slowly sheathing itself in her chest.

"Quit being so stoic, Stoick," she begged, "Shout and scream at me for leaving you and Hiccup. Scream so loud that Odin comes down to complain. Tell me that I'm heartless for abandoning both of you, that I'm a bitch of a woman, just _please _stop looking at me like that."

Stoick raised his shaking hands, reaching roughly for hers. Valka couldn't say what overcame her, but her own hands drifted forward to clasp his, and he grabbed onto her fingers and held them so gingerly yet interlocking them tightly enough so as to make sure she wouldn't pull away from him. He brushed his calloused thumbs over her fingers and the palms of her hands, as if she were some sort of hallucination that would dissipate into ash upon being touched and blow away in the breeze, and then he lifted his head to look at her and his gaze wandered across every feature of her face, drinking in her appearance some twenty years after he'd last laid eyes on her. Not once did he frown, or grimace, or sneer. His piercing green eyes were as soft as she could ever remember, holding only reverence for her.

"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you."

All of Valka's resolve, fear, shame, _everything _left her with those words. "How can you be so… so… _merciful_? Hiccup needed so much time with me, I was sure you'd need the same."

The sea crashed against the cliffs again. Stoick shushed her, his smile showing through his beard. "I wanted to take your hands and embrace you the moment I saw you on the hill. When Hiccup told me, I wanted to tear Berk apart searching for you, not a care for the enemy in our midst. And all day, I wanted nothing more than to shirk my responsibility and find you. I feared that you'd run away, maybe for the same reason that you didn't return after that night."

"Stoick…" Valka started, her gaze drifting down to their interlocked fingers.

"If I drove you away, please tell me." Valka flinched and her eyes darted back up to look at him, noting the sorrow streaking across his face. "If it is my fault that you thought you could never come home—"

Valka ripped one of her hands from his grip and stepped forward, leaning to meet his eye level and tugging the hand of his that she still held closer to his chest. With her now free hand, she caressed his cheek, feeling how time had ravaged his handsome features. He wasn't ugly, far from it, but she could see the stress that she had caused him, forcing him to lead alone for so long. Wrinkles that were not there when she'd left were prevalent now, scars from the weight of the solitude he'd borne for so many years by himself.

"It wasn't you, Stoick. It was me; I see that now. I thought that Hiccup would be better off without me… without his dragon-loving mother to pull him against you. I told myself that you wanted the next great dragon slayer, and that if I remained, you could never have that."

Stoick frowned. "Val, you'd have been so ashamed of me. I wasn't a good father."

"And I take responsibility for that," she interjected, "Whatever you did while I was gone, however you struggled with our son, it is no one's fault but my own."

"Val—"

"I left. That's the truth," Valka said, "But I won't leave again. I'll be here to stay, if you'll have me."

Stoick beamed. "I'd like nothing more, Val," he said, "Nothing more."

Valka grinned, and then surged forward to plant a kiss on his weary lips. Stoick pushed tenderly back in response, raising a calloused hand to Valka's chin to hold her and be certain that she was real. When he felt her begin to pull away, he rested there, eyes closed and chuckling as he felt her breath ghost across his face.

"I thought I'd have to die," said Stoick, "before I'd get to do that again." Valka cracked a brazen smile, descending into a fit of snickers. She glanced down at the odd chair he was sitting in, from its strange gears to the wooden wheels on its sides.

"And what, exactly, is this contraption?"

Stoick looked down at the chair before answering. "Your son made this. A prototype that he never perfected, I think. Gobber pulled it out of storage and Gothi signed off on it."

Valka smirked, blue eyes sparkling with mirth. "Get tired of needing help to go anywhere?"

Stoick chortled. "Exhausted by it," he said. They shared another laugh. It might have felt morbid to joke about Stoick's current condition were he not so unapologetically cheerful. Valka could see in just his eyes that he didn't mind, that he was merely happy to be alive.

"Should we head home?" she asked. Stoick's eyes absolutely sparkled at that, thrilled that she was referring to the house as home. For better or for worse, they understood one another. They would rise above the twenty years they'd been apart, the twenty years of deception and secrecy.

"Absolutely," said the Chief of Berk. He placed his hands on the wheels of his chair and rolled backwards, pivoting around as Valka walked up beside him. They went together, Valka walking and Stoick riding through the grass away from the bluffs toward the house they'd shared long ago.

"I suppose Cloudjumper will need a place to stay. He's much too big for the house."

Stoick shrugged. "We'll see what we can do. Perhaps we can build him a great big shed next to us and have it all to himself."

Valka looked over and scoffed, though more out of disbelief than anything else. The notion was ridiculous. "You don't mean that," she said. Surely, he didn't.

Stoick grinned. "For you, my dear," he said, recalling the words he'd whispered long ago whenever she asked something of him, "Anything."

* * *

Astrid watched with bated breath as Gothi placed her frail hands against Hiccup's torso, gently applying a pressure that made him wince and try to recoil. The elder's hands dropped, and she stroked her chin, considering him. She motioned for him to breathe, and he did, failing to contain a pained grimace in the act.

Gothi performed a few more quick tests and then gestured for Hiccup to hold his left arm out so she could examine his wrist, the other spot on his body that was hurting. She gently rolled the joint and Hiccup cried out in pain, clenching his teeth to contain the noise. Gothi, blank as ever, stroked her chin some more and hummed, thinking as she turned to examine her shelves.

"Well, this isn't ominous or foreboding at all," Hiccup grunted as he watched the old woman. Astrid was sitting on his right, and she took his uninjured hand in hers and squeezed.

"You'll be fine. You've been through a lot worse, right?" she said.

"At least I was asleep for that," he muttered, and Astrid slugged him on the arm purely out of instinct.

Hiccup outright yelped, "Ow! _Violence,"_ and Astrid instantly regretted the action. Gothi's resulting glare didn't help any, either.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him, and he shrugged weakly.

"S'fine," he mumbled, "Like you just said, I've been through a lot worse." That time, he glanced up at her and smirked, earning a smile out of her.

Astrid looked around Gothi's hut, situated high above the village. Their dragons had flown them up here for Hiccup's examination and were waiting patiently outside. Gothi's walls were lined with shelves stocked with medicine and related materials, and the old woman was busy trying to find exactly what she needed. She whistled and one of her Terrible Terrors flapped over, ready to assist.

Gothi was the proud caretaker of a pack of the devious little reptiles; five years ago, they had taken to her even more quickly than she had taken to them. The day they had first taken her flying had been in the running for one of the most peculiar days on Berk. The pack had banded together to carry Gothi across the village, and the sight of the old woman descending as if she herself were levitating had been enough to scare a Viking warrior into fainting on the spot. One old wife had even run screaming into the town square, absolutely certain that Ragnarök had arrived.

That little episode notwithstanding, the little dragons were surprisingly smart and Gothi quickly trained them to help her with just about whatever she needed. Sometimes, they'd even know exactly what to look for upon seeing a patient with a familiar injury and fetch the necessary materials from the shelf without being asked, a feat that never ceased to amaze those lucky patients.

Gothi made a couple of grunting noises—the only sounds that she could make—that apparently meant something specific to the Terror, because the sly little dragon flapped over to an open cupboard and rummaged around before reappearing with a few small but sturdy rods of wood. Gothi produced a roll of bandages and held out her free hand, so the Terror delivered the sticks to her and then flapped over to the perch by the shelf to return to the rest of its pack, immediately getting into a snapping match with its brethren.

Gothi then gestured at Hiccup, tossing her skinny arms up in the air.

Hiccup frowned. "You just gestured to all of me."

Astrid stifled a laugh with her hand, allowing her grin to peek through the gaps in her fingers. "I think she needs you to take your shirt off, babe."

Hiccup's face turned Monstrous Nightmare-red. "Oh. Um…"

Gothi audibly groaned and repeated the gesture. Astrid stared Hiccup down, "She says the shirt comes off or she'll have the Terrors rip it off of you." Astrid was spitballing there; Gothi probably hadn't explicitly meant that, but the mental image was very amusing.

"Since when can you understand her?" Hiccup asked, daring to see through her.

"Since now," Astrid said. She walked over to his side. "Just lift your arms up, I'll take it off for you. I'll try my best not to touch your wrist." Seeing that he wasn't getting out of it, Hiccup submitted and lifted his arms over his head. Astrid reached down and tugged at the hem of his tunic, pulling it up so that his torso revealed itself inch by inch. Astrid steadfastly ignored the lump that formed in her throat at the sight of his abs and the rest of his flat, lean stomach. She cursed herself—there was absolutely no reason to be getting hot and bothered right now. The baby must be doing this to her. This was the absolute least sensual way she'd relieved Hiccup of his shirt. Ever.

Hiccup's grunt jarred her out of her semi-erotic trance as she accidentally put too much pressure on his injured wrist. She mumbled an apology and tugged the rest of the tunic off, discarding the forest-green garment to the floor. She came back around to the front of him, noticing Gothi's brow crease with concern.

Astrid quickly saw why. There was a nasty, obvious bruise below his right chest. She wondered how she hadn't noticed when she was taking his shirt off. _Stupid pregnancy brain. _Gothi wandered up to examine him some more, putting more pressure around the wound and ignoring Hiccup every time he complained. When she was satisfied with her various tests, she walked back and grabbed her staff to write in her sandbox.

"So, that rib is definitely broken," Astrid more or less translated the old woman's writing.

"That explains why just _breathing_ doesn't feel amazing," Hiccup muttered.

"But she says she can't feel any evidence of a punctured lung, so it won't be too much healing time," Astrid added as she watched Gothi write some more.

"What's she saying now?" Hiccup asked.

Astrid hummed as her eyes grazed over Gothi's peculiar handwriting, "That your wrist is just sprained, and that you're lucky it isn't broken," Astrid said.

"Lucky's debatable; this is my sword hand, my writing hand, my pointing hand…" Hiccup lamented, grimacing after he finished speaking. Astrid rolled her eyes at him and he flashed a slight smirk.

Gothi set down her staff and hobbled over, signaling for Hiccup to hold his arm out to her. He did, and the old woman motioned for Astrid to lend her a hand. Gothi carefully held Hiccup's arm with one hand, passing the bandages to Astrid before aligning a few of the sticks with Hiccup's wrist. The elder grunted and Astrid started to unroll the bandages. Hiccup winced as Gothi set his wrist perfectly straight, and Astrid leaned over to start wrapping the bandages around his wrist, covering the sticks and a decent part of his forearm in the cloth. She made sure to tie it tightly so that nothing would come loose, ignoring Hiccup's groans as he fought the pain.

Gothi eventually motioned for Astrid to stop, leaving Hiccup with a fairly thick cone of bandaging around his lower hand, wrist, and about halfway up his forearm, completely covering the sticks and holding them tightly in place. Gothi took the bandages from Astrid and waddled away, whistling for a Terror to come take the bandages from her and set them on a shelf that she normally couldn't reach.

"Shouldn't we brace the rib?" Hiccup asked. Gothi shook her head and started writing again in her sandbox.

"She says compression can make it harder to breathe. If you manage to get sick in this changing weather, you need to be able to breathe as deeply as possible so that it won't get worse," Astrid explained. Hiccup parted his lips in a casual _ah _and nodded.

"Well, okay then. Thank you for everything, Gothi," Hiccup said, and he started to stand up with Astrid's help.

Gothi grunted at them both, causing them to freeze in place. The old woman waggled her finger at Astrid, motioning for her to come closer. Hiccup carefully sat back down, and Astrid let go of him, walking over to the elder. Gothi started to scribble in the sand once Astrid was close enough, writing quickly and concisely.

_Does he know?_

Astrid didn't have to think about it to know what the old woman was getting at. She nodded carefully.

"Everything okay over there?" Hiccup asked.

"She wants to talk about the baby."

Hiccup was silent for a moment. "Oh," he finally said. She heard him shuffling around in his seat, as if trying to get comfortable. "What's wrong, Gothi?"

The old woman started scribbling in the sand with her staff again so that Astrid could read the runes. "Nothing for now," she translated, "but she says we need to be prepared for complications resulting from all the action lately. I'll admit I've been knocked around here and there."

"Complications?" Hiccup repeated.

"Miscarriage," Astrid said, and Hiccup made an 'O' shape with his mouth.

"Does she think you're at risk?" he said fearfully. The tone of his voice prompted Astrid to look over her shoulder at him, if only to calm him down a little with her gaze. Astrid glanced back at Gothi, who was already writing out a response. The elder's frail arms tensed with the effort and her face contorted.

"She says no," said Astrid, "that I'm young and strong, but there's always the possibility. Fortunately, I don't have any injuries from the battle that might up the risk. But Gothi thinks we should hold up on telling anyone else until we know that the pregnancy's taken hold."

Hiccup nodded. "I think I can manage that well enough. How much longer until we can be certain?"

"Another… two months?" Astrid guessed as she read more of Gothi's writing. The elder nodded and leaned against her staff, her ash-gray hair in tatters from the toil of the day. Bags were starting to form under her eyes; the old woman looked exhausted.

"Two more months of keeping a secret from my ultra-perceptive father? Easy peasy," Hiccup drawled with an almost-excessive dose of sarcasm. A little voice in the back of Astrid's mind whispered that it might not end up being two months, because she could lose the baby in that timeframe and the secret would come out on its own then. She chased the sinister murmur away and padded across the small room to rest a hand on his shoulder. At the sensation of contact, Hiccup glanced up at her.

"It'll be fine," she said cheerily, "I'll help you keep the secret." Hiccup couldn't help but crack a wide grin as he stifled a snort of laughter, causing Astrid to break down as well.

"As if you have a choice," Hiccup jeered, amused.

Gothi watched the two young lovers with a warm smile on her frail face. The sight of Hiccup and Astrid brought out an energy that she could not describe. She was happy for the both of them. Knowing where they'd been in their lives only six years ago only made the way they doted on one another sweeter. They reminded Gothi of herself when she was a young maid.

Hiccup and Astrid ceased laughing, and both began to feel that they'd overstayed their welcome. "Is there anything else, Gothi?" he asked, and the old woman shook her head. "Well, then I guess that means it's time to go." Astrid grabbed his right hand and helped him rise from the chair, Hiccup groaning as his broken rib complained.

Astrid led him out of the hut, where Toothless and Stormfly were patiently waiting. Both dragons crooned upon recognizing their riders and bounded over, the force of their weight starting to shake the perch's foundation.

"Toothless, calm down, bud," Hiccup urged, and the Night Fury obeyed. Toothless nudged his head against Hiccup and grunted. "Yeah, I'm gonna be okay, bud. Just a scratch."

Nearby, Stormfly trilled and leaned into Astrid's touch as she stroked her neck, the Nadder's wings twitching with each little caress. The dragon brushed her snout across Astrid's belly with a measured squawk, affectionate.

"She knows," Hiccup said.

"She's the reason I even started thinking I might be pregnant. I was out flying with her and Toothless when I lost my breakfast on a sea stack. I'm not sure what she picked up on, but I went to see Gothi later that day," Astrid explained.

"Part of me wishes you'd told me sooner," said Hiccup, "But I get why you didn't."

"It isn't your fault, Hiccup. I kept the secret because… well, because of me," Astrid said. She patted Stormfly's neck and marveled at her blue scales, keeping Hiccup squarely in her peripheral vision. "And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still scared."

"About risking losing it?" Astrid nodded and Hiccup peeled away from Toothless to take her hands. Astrid tilted her head at him and smiled weakly.

"I know Gothi said she thinks it's unlikely, but how much does that really mean?" Astrid asked, "Anything could happen, that's just a fact."

"It is," Hiccup agreed, "But she wasn't kidding about how strong you are. And for what it's worth, I think this baby's pretty strong, too. It did basically help defeat an evil warlord Hel-bent on conquering the entire world." Astrid scoffed and looked away to contain her laughter. She could almost feel Hiccup's grin on her back. "Hey, can you prove to me that it didn't?"

"I guess not," Astrid conceded, if only to let him have the moment. She met his eyes again and beamed before leaning forward to kiss him, a short and sweet peck on the lips. "Thank you," she said when she pulled back.

"So, I'm thinking Dagnes for a girl."

Astrid stiffened and tilted her head up at him. "Excuse me?"

"It's a combination of Dagny and Agnes. What do you think?"

"Are you serious?" she blurted, incredulous.

"You're right, I should probably think of another one for a boy. Just in case," Hiccup said. He rolled his eyes up, thinking out loud. "How about Spitball?"

Astrid rolled her eyes especially hard and started walking toward Stormfly. "Yeah, Hiccup, if that's the best you can come up with, you're definitely not going to name any of our children."

Hiccup snickered in that way that said he was very proud of himself. "Plural."

Astrid's back arched like that of a cornered animal, mortified and defensive at the same time. "You're impossible."

She tugged her hands out of his grasp so she could climb atop Stormfly's back. Hiccup meandered back to Toothless as Stormfly stretched her wings with a content squawk, and Astrid took a long look at the ravaged village far beneath them. Spears of ice still littered the island, and she suspected that a fair number of families would be sleeping in the Great Hall for the next several nights, for their homes had been destroyed in the carnage of two great battles. In the harbor, many of Drago's ships continued to drift on the waves, mixed in with the larger horde of Viking longships from the allied tribes. There would be a lot to do over the next few weeks in order to get Berk back into working order.

Hiccup cranked the pedal on Toothless' stirrup to open his tailfin, and with a look over his shoulder at her, Hiccup ushered the Night Fury to get a running start. Toothless gladly bounded forward, picking up speed with a few quick footfalls before tipping over the edge of the perch. The dragon's black shape disappeared from sight, and Astrid squeezed her knee into Stormfly's flank.

"C'mon, girl. Let's not get left behind!" Stormfly shrilled and scampered forward on her muscular legs before leaping off of the roost to chase after Toothless. The Nadder folded her wings to build up speed and catch up, the Isle of Berk a blur beneath her wings.

* * *

The days began to blur together as rebuilding efforts began. The island was littered with ice, and there was a large population of dragons in need of rehabilitation from the horrors they'd suffered in Drago's clutches. The vast majority of them wore armor plates in various places on their body, most commonly the head, so the smithy was initially set to burn all day and all night in order to melt down the metal and repurpose it.

The influx of steel would've normally been huge for an island like Berk, as they wouldn't have to pay for more when the next trader ships came through, until Mogadon rose from his seat and complained that the other tribes were just as entitled to the repossession of the dragon armor as Berk was. Stoick had rolled his eyes and ordered the surplus divided into equal fifths and shipped off to the other respective islands. In exchange, the other tribes committed a share of workers to help with the repairs.

They weren't the only ones. The surviving soldiers in Drago's army that had surrendered were conscripted to assist as well, paying for their transgressions by repairing the damage they had done to Berk. It had been Hiccup's idea, with Eret's backing, and while it wasn't a perfect solution most people believed that it was better than a mass execution, especially since a fair number of Drago's warriors had been conscripted into the army against their will in the first place. In exchange for their labor, the soldiers would be allowed to sail away from Berk—on the condition that they swore to never return, of course.

After all of the logistics had been worked out, all that was left to do was, well, work. The majority of Hiccup's job was pretty simple, and he was capable of doing it even with his injuries. Using Toothless' newfound Alpha abilities, the pair controlled the efforts of breaking up and offloading ice from the land. Most dragons took to the new Alpha with enthusiasm; they had already largely followed Toothless for five years, so it was hardly a transition.

Still, there were a large number of dragons from Drago's army that did not remain on Berk. Once they were freed from their chains and armor, many of them had taken to the skies and not returned. Hiccup couldn't blame them. They had spent Odin knows how long under the dominion of Drago and the Bewilderbeast, and the prospect of freedom after a lifetime of oppression was too good to pass up. Perhaps they were not interested in following another Alpha so soon. The majority of the dragons from Valka's mountain returned to their home, too, preferring the independence they'd enjoyed for so long.

If anything, it kept Berk from becoming overcrowded.

When each day came to a close or Toothless' labor was no longer needed, Hiccup would head back to the house to find Astrid. By then, she had usually returned from her days' worth of work and was starting on dinner (much to Hiccup's sorrow, though she was improving). After Hiccup had sufficiently interfered enough (in the interest of preventing himself from being poisoned, he claimed), they would sit down and eat as they recounted their days to one another. If there was still daylight when all of that was over, they might head to the Great Hall to convene with their friends. If not, they usually just went to bed.

It was a new normal for a time, but the return to relative normalcy was a very welcome one, allowing the Vikings of Berk to recover from the horrors of the last few weeks by drowning themselves in work. Drago Bludvist was dead, as was his terrible dream, and all were better off for it.

Soon enough, a few days became two weeks, and then three, before the reconstruction was complete. The remains of the Bewilderbeast's ice had been dumped into the sea, the docks and dragon hangar had been repaired, and the houses destroyed in the crossfire of two separate battles were rebuilt (largely by the prisoners from Drago's army, since their destruction was entirely their fault). With the labor done, the Berkians upheld their promise, stacking the last of Drago's ships (which had been stripped of their weapons and traps, of course) with the released prisoners and casting them off. Any other vessels that still remained after the fact were promptly sunk.

But with Berk good as new came change, the kind that was admittedly long overdue.

Hiccup found himself one morning standing in front of the mirror, Astrid on his arm. She held one hand over her belly—she hadn't started to show yet, and still no one else but them and Gothi (and, according to Astrid, Heather) knew about the upcoming addition—and used the other to brush off his shoulder. He was wearing a great brown cape, the same one that he'd worn for their wedding eight months prior, though this time he was clothed in his riding armor. He'd updated it some, covering most of the leather parts with additional plating. His left wrist was still in a splint, and his broken rib was still giving him trouble, but he was healthy and happy, taking each day as he always did.

The only question left on his mind was if he was ready.

"I look ridiculous," he lamented, watching himself say the words in the mirror. Astrid laughed, a soft, angelic giggle that made Hiccup's stomach churn. He loved her so much, more than he knew how to say. And she was carrying his _child. _If he could go visit his twelve-year-old self and share such news, he was sure that his preteen head would explode.

"You look handsome," Astrid corrected, "Like a Chief." Hiccup hummed, staring at his image and struggling to believe that it was true. "Still having doubts?" Astrid's voice addressed him as an echo in his ear, and he winced.

"No? Yes? I don't really know," Hiccup said. He ran his fingers through his thick dark hair, briefly relishing the sensation as his fingernails scraped his scalp. He let his hand fall to his side and sighed. "What if I can't do the job right? What if I'm the worst Chief in the history of Berk, what if—"

His world spun as Astrid yanked on his shoulder, turning him around to face her and look her in the eye. Her free hand found his other shoulder and she tightened her grip, giving him one of her famous determined glares.

"Uh-uh," she said as she shook her head, "You, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, are the best possible person to lead us into the future. Think about all we've been through. How many other Vikings could've rebounded from losing their home and rallied their allies to take it back? How many people could invent gear to fight off the call of a literalalpha species to protect our dragons? How many people could change the entire culture of a group of people, much less ones as stubborn as Vikings?"

Astrid shifted her hand from his shoulder to his chest, resting it over his heart and drumming her fingers there. "I told you a few weeks ago that what you were looking for was in here, not out there. And I'd like to think that you found it in here, because the Hiccup that was before would've balked at the idea of facing down Drago Bludvist. Whatever pieces that might've been missing… you've got them now. And you don't have to lead by yourself. You may be the one to hold the title, but every great leader has people to help them. I hope you know that I'll always be by your side."

"Well, you kind of have to be. Chief_tess_ and all that," Hiccup said, flashing a toothy, smug grin that earned a chuckle and smack on the shoulder from Astrid.

"Stop deflecting, jerk. You can do this," Astrid said. She leaned her head closer so she could look endearingly up at him. He was sprouting a little stubble along his jaw that he'd need to shave soon, though she could picture him quite well with a beard and had to say that she liked the mental image. "Okay?" she asked.

Hiccup nodded. "Okay."

Astrid rose up to kiss him on the cheek. "Good," she said as she lowered from her toes and released her grip on Hiccup's shoulders. She took his hand—the one that wasn't hurt—and gave him a grin. "Now, are you ready to go meet your people, Chief?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Hiccup said. Hand in hand with Astrid, they crossed their bedroom, Astrid tugging the door open and letting him walk out first. He tightened his grip on her hand after she closed the door and they headed for the front door of their house. When they reached it, he separated their hands and opened the door on his own this time. Sunlight poured into the house, momentarily blinding them both, and when the light receded, he saw the majority of the village flocking toward the far cliffs overlooking the sea. At the center of the growing maelstrom of people stood Stoick, Valka, and Gobber.

Wordlessly, Hiccup and Astrid padded down the hill, well behind the horde of Vikings. Hiccup took in a deep, preparatory breath, familiar with their destination. As they drew closer, some people reached out to pat Hiccup on the back, wishing him a speedy recovery and congratulating him on his appointment. Stoick had made the announcement just the other day, setting the ceremony for the morning of Freya's Day.

They emerged from the edge of the village and hiked up the rising ground leading to the plain furthest from the town. The low plateau overlooked the water, the dragon racing arena off to the right and the dragon hangar jutting out of the rocks to the left. People congregated around its center, their incessant clamoring growing louder and louder as Hiccup and Astrid closed in.

They started to slither through the crowd, and Vikings erupted in cheers as they recognized the Chief-and-Chieftess-to-be. The throng of people began to part, carving a path for the two. At the end of the lane were Stoick, Valka, and Gobber, each of them smiling brilliantly. A few feet to Stoick's right was the Chiefsrock, an ancient blackened formation of rock that had been there for even longer than people had lived on the island. It was the site where the first Chief of Berk was chosen, one of Hiccup's ancient ancestors, and since then had served as the place where each new Chief was crowned as well.

"People of Berk! You all know why you're here, so I'll not waste time by going on a long spiel leading up to the announcement," Stoick began, looking at Hiccup and Astrid and beaming, "My son and I have talked at great length over these last few weeks, and have decided that finally, the time has come. After many, many years of serving as your chieftain, it is time for me to hand my position down to my son."

A rush of cacophonous applause circled through the crowd, as if every last Viking on Berk needed to get a supportive word in edgewise. Stoick grinned through his beard. "Before we begin with the induction of the next Chief, however, we must first recognize his wife, Astrid Haddock, whom will be his Chieftess as is her right, should she be willing to swear the oaths."

Hiccup turned his head to look at Astrid—he supposed that everyone did—and felt a surge of pride when she nodded. She stepped forward, carefully pulling her fingers free from his until she was standing before the Chief, his long-lost wife, and Gobber. The three of them looked upon her like a critical council of elders, able to see her every misdeed and every content of her soul with only their sharp, time-tested eyes.

"Astrid Hofferson Haddock," Stoick started, his voice low and almost ominous, attesting to the seriousness of the ceremony, "Do you swear to stand by your husband's side as his Chieftess, and advise him however he need be?"

"I swear," Astrid answered firmly.

"Do you swear to always serve as a voice of reason, as a guide, should he find himself in need?"

"I swear."

"And do you swear to love and protect Berk as its Chieftess for as long as you hold the title?"

"I swear."

"Very well. Then from this day, until death or retirement takes you from us, may you reign as the Chieftess of the Hooligan Tribe," Stoick decreed. Gothi shuffled toward her and Astrid dropped to one knee, bowing her head before Gothi as the woman scraped her finger along the Chiefsrock. The elder scrawled a smooth, steady line of ash that reached from the center of Astrid's forehead down to the bridge of her nose. Reaching for a second serving of the paint-like powder, Gothi then drew an identical pair of curved lines that crossed down the sides of Astrid's nose, reaching up to hug the lower half of her eyelids before streaking across her temples, the lines of ash breaking off where her hair began.

Astrid rose once the mark was complete, nodding fiercely down at Gothi as the old woman dipped her head. Then, Astrid made her way back to Hiccup's side, striding confidently and wearing a hard, battle-worn look that only added to the warrior mystique offered to her by the markings on her face. She reached Hiccup's side and curled around, gently reaching for his hand. They remained still for a few, foreboding seconds, only to have the reverie broken by Stoick.

"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third," drawled the young man's father. Hiccup looked up, meeting his father's piercing eyes. "Step forward." Hiccup did as he was told (for once in his life) and halved the distance between himself and his father, skin tingling as he felt hundreds of eyes upon him.

"Do you swear to uphold and abide by the laws and customs of this island, and deliver fair justice to those who violate them?"

"I swear."

"Do you swear to always protect Berk and her people from any threat both beyond and within?"

"I swear."

"And do you so solemnly swear to always act in the best interest of your people as their chieftain, and never in the interest of only yourself?"

"I swear."

His father smiled down at him, the new emotion sending a tidal wave of relief crashing into Hiccup's shoulders that lifted all of the weight off of them, like he had just survived sailing through a storm. "Then by the power bestowed upon me by all those who came before, and of my own free will, I, Stoick the Vast, Chieftain of Berk, do formally rule that from this day forward, until he is unable or unwilling to do so, that my son Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III hold and carry the title of Chieftain and all the lawful powers that the position entitles, in the interest of the Isle of Berk and her people. Gothi, the mark."

The frail elder hobbled closer, using her staff for support as she reached again for the Chiefsrock, brushing her ancient fingers across the muddied black stone. Her fingertips became stained with an ashen hue and she rubbed her fingertips together as if to check the integrity of the ash. Once she was satisfied, Gothi turned and dragged herself towards Hiccup. He knelt down, watching as the old woman shuffled until she was right in front of him. She held out her fingers, sullied with the black residue of the rock, and Hiccup nodded before bowing his head, allowing his eyes to drift closed.

He heard Gothi shuffle forward one last time, and then her brittle fingers were on his forehead, gently grazing across the skin. He felt her index finger draw a wide arc opening upward, and then her middle finger scrawled a smaller half-circle that he knew would form the insignia of a Viking helmet. Lastly, she stroked her thumb straight down from the center of the drawing, splitting the drawing in two and dragging the ash down to the bridge between his eyebrows. Gothi's fingers carefully peeled away and Hiccup opened his eyes, finding the old woman backing up a few steps. The elder nodded and bowed her head.

Hiccup rose to his feet, the emblem on his forehead seemingly weighing him down as that age-old fear stirred up inside him again. He stood up at his full height and turned to face the assembly of people, _his people, _staring right back. The silence made him enormously uncomfortable.

He felt a new weight on his shoulder and glanced down to find Astrid. The ceremonial paint left her no less beautiful, the sunlight still dancing off of her golden hair and shimmering in her eyes. She sent him a smile, squeezing his hand as she leaned into him, supporting him.

Stoick raised his voice for all to hear. The call sent a shot through the crowd, every man, woman, and child at once erupting with raucous cheers. Toothless let out a deafening bellow, and all of the dragons assembled around the village answered with boisterous screeching, many of them resting on rooftops and spreading their wings wide as they blasted fire into the sky. Their cries mixed with the gleeful shouting of Vikings, a startling harmony that could only make sense on Berk.

They were the calls of a new future, the voices of peace.

"_The Chief,"_ bellowed Stoick the Vast, and there was a proud finality in the way he spoke, as if he'd been waiting since his very first breath to say the words, _"has come home!"_

* * *

**The epilogue will be posted by next Saturday, June 27th.**


	26. Epilogue: Winds of Change

**Here we are, Chapter the Last. It has been a true ride writing and posting this story for all of you. I hope everyone enjoyed it at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it. Special thanks go out to Silvolde for dutifully beta-reading from start to finish, as well as to those of you who have been here since day one.**

**This is going to be, barring a major lightning strike of inspiration, my final post in the HTTYD fandom. After spending over two years lurking around in here reading and writing, I feel it's time for my curtain call. There will be no part 3 to the Bound/Ghosts saga. In fact, this epilogue will wrap up this version of Hiccup and Astrid's story with a nice little bow. Funny how such a small change to the sequence of events has created an altogether different conclusion. I dare to say it's a happier one, even.**

**Since this is the last that will be heard of me, I have a few questions to ask each and every one of you that have reached this point. I assume by now you've read through both _Bound_ and _Ghosts_ in their entirety. I hope a bunch of you will answer these questions in a review at the end of this chapter. It would honestly mean the world to me. Those questions will be posted in a note at the bottom to make them easier to get to if you want to answer them for me.**

* * *

_**Epilogue: Winds of Change**_

Astrid was cleaning the dishes when her water broke.

She didn't really have any words to describe the sensation; it had just... happened. Her gut had tightened up much like it had on those days forever ago that she'd learned she was with child, but all that had emerged from her lips this time was a strangled groan. Her fingers had gone stiff and she'd dropped the plate in her hands, the wooden piece clattering against the table as she leaned forward to catch herself on its edge, hissing as she felt the sudden wetness in her leggings. Suddenly, every inch of her skin was tingling.

Her mother looked up sharply from her seat across the hall, a flicker of worry flashing across her face. Edna had been staying in the house while Hiccup was out for the past few weeks, ready to launch into action whenever the big moment came. Hiccup's chiefing work was keeping him busier than ever now, with winter barging in through Berk's door and ice on the verge of setting in down in the harbor.

"Astrid? Are you alright?" her mother asked worriedly, starting to rise out of her seat ever so carefully.

Astrid tried to answer, but all she could do at first was hum as her lips locked shut out of some foreign spasm. After another troubled groan, she started to speak. "Mom," she managed, sucking in a preparatory breath. Edna was already on her feet. "I think the baby's coming."

That sent another spark into Edna's step, the older woman powering over and rounding the counter. Edna's eyes pivoted toward the floor, and she gasped before immediately rushing to Astrid's side. She curled one arm around her daughter's shoulder and the other around her stomach, supporting her. "Your water's broke. The baby is definitely coming."

"I thought we'd have another week or so," Astrid said with a tremble. She wriggled in her mother's grasp.

"These things happen, darling. Come on, let's get you to bed." Edna started to lead her away, but Astrid's feet all of a sudden felt incredibly heavy. Walking was more difficult than it had ever been. Her knees cried out with each step, scolding her for daring to move. Her gut twisted and roiled, a sharp spike of pain piercing upward through her like a bolt of lightning.

They were halfway to the bedroom when the door flung open. Astrid whipped her head over her shoulder, hoping she'd find Hiccup surging in. Instead, a fountain of auburn hair frayed with a few streaks of grey strode inside, attached to the tall, spindly visage of Valka. The woman's staff was tucked at her side, and as she stepped into the torchlight, she flinched upon seeing Astrid and Edna huddled together.

Astrid opened her mouth to speak, but Valka knew all too well what she was looking at. "The baby," Valka blurted, and Astrid nodded feverishly. Another sharp ache overtook her again and she finally gave into the cry building in her throat, leaning forward against her mother's grip.

"Valka, get the midwives," Edna said, and without hesitation the dragon woman was flying back toward the door she'd just entered through.

"And send for Hiccup!" Astrid added, succumbing to another grimace as the aching continued. "He has to be here," she managed, and she hoped Valka had heard her, because she didn't get an answer before the front door slammed shut.

Her mother led her a few steps closer to the bedroom. Astrid's breathing was uncomfortably ragged, virtually all of her strength suddenly sapped in just a few unexpected seconds. "He has to be here," she repeated, sucking in as many breaths as she could before the next wave of pain could hit. She had no idea how long it would be.

"He will be, love," Edna promised, "Let's focus for now on getting you to a bed. The next several hours are going to be quite taxing."

Astrid clutched her stomach as her mother dragged her along, shuffling towards the door blocking off her and Hiccup's room. Edna pushed the door open and leaned against it, helping Astrid stagger inside. As soon as Astrid was far enough past the threshold, Edna scrabbled away from the door and returned fully to her side. They crossed the short distance to the bed and with great difficulty, Astrid managed to clamber onto the furs. The soft material did nothing to soothe her. The second her whole body was atop them, she turned on her back and scooted up to the headboard, spreading her legs and panting while doing so.

She started dragging her armored skirt and leggings down her legs, feeling her belly swell. The skirt came off easily enough, and her mother helped her drag it the rest of the way down her legs. The opulent fur beneath her stuck to her now-bare legs—Astrid's undergarment and the sides of her thighs were soaked. She peeled her underwear away, very much not enjoying the sensation of that, and Edna found an additional blanket as Astrid discarded the garment. Together they draped the blanket over her, and Astrid steepled her legs beneath it.

"Mom? Does it always feel like you're going to die?" she asked, finally resting her head back down flat and panting. She was already starting to sweat—she could feel little beads of fluid peppered along her hairline.

Edna shrugged as kindly as she could. "Well, love, I only have experience with the one birth." Astrid tilted her head up to meet her mother's eyes but couldn't bring herself to smile. "But I suppose so, yes." Astrid set her head back on the pillow and bit down on her lip.

A good half-hour passed before the front door was flung open. Feminine voices filled the house, and Astrid saw shadows dance off of the far wall before three shapes rounded the corner, led first and foremost by Valka. Astrid recognized the other two as Angrboða, one of Gothi's assistants, and Cattail, both trained midwives.

"Hello, Astrid," Angrboða greeted, her black hair tied back in a braid so it wouldn't get in her way, "We're going to help you deliver your baby." Astrid nodded, ignoring the vaguely snarky responses that surfaced in her head, and the two women went to work. Astrid eyed Valka, unconsciously gritting her teeth.

"Where's Hiccup?"

"I don't know. Fishlegs said he went out to help a fishing vessel, so I sent him to bring him back."

"You couldn't have gone yourself?" Astrid snapped, immediately regretting it. She was being ungrateful, an emotion that had never been a good look on her.

"I thought I might be more useful here…" Valka said, trailing off. Despite all the time she'd been living on Berk again, sometimes she still clung to the timid side of herself. Like an outsider unaware of the locals' customs, almost.

"Then go find my father. He's probably in the Great Hall," Astrid insisted, and Valka sprang into action again, heading for the door. Astrid felt a pang of guilt in her chest for ordering Valka around, and called out to her before she could vanish.

"Valka." The woman paused and looked over her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I know you're trying," Astrid said. Valka glanced momentarily at the doorframe and then back to Astrid, nodding before taking off again.

Cattail looked up from examining Astrid, nodding firmly. "Try to control your breathing, Astrid. You're further along than you might think. Stay with us, and we'll be through before you know it."

For whatever reason, Astrid felt fairly certain that Cattail was just trying to keep her spirits up.

* * *

It was brutally, unmercifully cold.

The wind was pelting Hiccup in the face nonstop as he flew, Toothless beating his wings as powerfully as he could. Hiccup looked over his shoulder, groaning at the sight of the vessel they were tethered to. Their pace was slow, even as Toothless worked together with 3 other dragons to tow the ship back towards home.

A winter storm had blown past Berk and snatched up one of their fishing vessels, steering it horribly off-course. Along the way, they'd rammed into a sheet of ice, punching a hole in the hull of the ship and rendering it unable to sail home safely. A few of the fishermen aboard had mounted their dragons and flown back to Berk, begging for help bringing in their significant catch.

Upon following them out to where the ship had been languishing, Hiccup had known he needed to lend his help. The amount of fish aboard the ship would be a boon to their food reserves, as today was going to be one of the last days of the fishing season. Ships had been circling the waters around Berk, gathering what they could before the ice set in, but unfortunately, it already had done so where this particular vessel had been sent to.

So, Hiccup had tied Toothless and a few other dragons to the bow of the ship, and they were tugging the vessel back toward the village as quickly as they could, their combined strength keeping the ship from capsizing. They'd been out here for over an hour, and the cold was beginning to get to everyone. Hiccup had wisely brought along one of his heaviest fur coats, but the fishermen had not all been so clever, having expected just that morning to be back in Berk well before nightfall. Now, with the sun setting and the temperature only dropping further, the sailors were having to resort to burning a few consumables aboard the ship to keep warm.

Hiccup felt for them. Berk wasn't that much further away, so they would survive, but he wouldn't be surprised if Gothi needed to look at a few of them for frostbite. He would probably call off all fishing efforts after the fact, for the sake of preventing anyone else from getting caught up in a storm.

He was ultimately unable to escape the cold, even with the heavy furs he'd wrapped himself in. His jaw was getting the worst of it, teeth beginning to chatter against one another as the wind besieged him. Toothless likely wasn't faring much better, having been forced to tow the ship for hours now. The Night Fury did have a special dislike for the cold.

"Man the oars!" shouted a Viking, hoping to offer as much assistance as possible to the dragons. Men scampered to their positions and dunked the ends of the oars into the sea, pushing accordingly to boost the vessel's speed. "Row!"

The move actually did end up helping, getting them further in the next half-hour than they'd been able to go before. The blistering wind still kept up, though, and Hiccup retreated into his cloak. He could practically feel frost beginning to form on his jaw.

Toothless grunted in that way that told Hiccup something was amiss. "What is it, bud?" he said, teeth chattering, and Toothless flicked his flat head up ahead of them. Two shapes were flapping closer and closer, one much larger than the other. Against the dim remaining light, he recognized the telltale horns of a Monstrous Nightmare, and judging by the smaller and bulkier shape of the second dragon…

"Is that… Snotlout and Fishlegs?" he mumbled to himself, and within the next minute his suspicions were confirmed as the two young Vikings roared into the picture.

"For Thor's sake, Hiccup, there you are!" Snotlout bellowed, arms crossed in annoyance over his chest. "We've been looking for you for over an _hour!"_ As if Hiccup had wasted _his_ time.

"I had to help them get back to the village," Hiccup said, gesturing at the damaged longship behind him. He was a little annoyed by Snotlout's 'greeting', as if he were the one who had truly been inconvenienced, but he was able to keep a straight face thanks to years of practice. "What's the problem?" he asked, calm and measured.

"Astrid's in labor!" Fishlegs squeaked. He clapped his hands over his mouth as if he'd said something wrong, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

Hiccup froze. "She's _what?" _he shouted over the wintry wind, all hint of composure draining out of him like blood from a gutted sheep. Toothless warbled after him, a startled groan rumbling out of his throat.

"Uh, she's having your baby, stupid," Snotlout said, "That's what labor means."

Hiccup rolled his eyes. "I _know_ what labor means, Snotlout. I thought we had more time!" He fidgeted relentlessly in the saddle now. Astrid was having their baby—no, rephrase—_Astrid was having their baby!_

"Valka said she was asking for you," Fishlegs said.

Hiccup nodded frantically, unsurprised, and looked back at the fishing ship. The Vikings aboard appeared to have heard Fishlegs' message, for their expressions were firm and determined.

"Go on, Chief. We'll be fine!" one of them shouted, despite the frost forming in his beard that might've liked to contradict him.

Hiccup looked back to Fishlegs and Snotlout, decided, and then reached to the side of Toothless' saddle, unhooking the rope that he'd tied around the edge of it. "Fishlegs, Snotlout, I need you two to cover for me. Make sure everyone on this ship gets back to Berk safe and sound!" He tossed the rope to Snotlout, who was closer to him.

Snotlout caught the rope in one hand, looking down at his dragon with a broad smirk. "You got it, cuz! C'mon, Hookie, let's show 'em how it's _done!" _he crowed. Hookfang responded by flaming up, igniting the scales all across his slender body and burning Snotlout's arse. _"Ow, shit! Hookfang, what have I told you about that!?"_ he complained, and then followed his objection up with, _"Actually, that doesn't feel all that bad. It's like a seat warmer!"_

"Get a rope for Fishlegs!" Hiccup called over his shoulder, and the sailors scrambled to find an extra cord. Hiccup spurred Toothless ahead, now untethered and able to fly much faster than when he'd been towing the ship. The Night Fury flapped his wings with bated glee. "You guys get home in one piece, okay?"

Fishlegs gave him a determined nod. "We will, Hiccup. Go be with Astrid."

Hiccup dipped his head and focused on the horizon. "C'mon, bud," he barked to Toothless, and the Night Fury beat his wings with as much strength as he could manage, building up speed as they raced back to Berk.

* * *

Hiccup flew home quite possibly as fast as he ever had before in his life. He leaned flat on Toothless' saddle to shield himself from the cold, and the sky ripped apart as the Night Fury zoomed in the direction of Berk. It took them another half-hour on account of the distance, but when the village popped into view in the darkness, Hiccup let out a weary sigh.

He directed Toothless to land on his front lawn and was already jumping out of the saddle before the dragon had even touched the earth. He stumbled as he caught his footing and without even thanking Toothless, he surged toward the house, ducking his shoulder to burst through the door.

"Where's Astrid?" he shouted before he had even registered who was in the house. Stoick and Gobber were whispering to one another, while Valka brewed tea over the fire in the hearth. His abrupt entrance had startled all three of them, delaying any sort of response from anyone.

Instead, Astrid's cry conveniently tipped off her location, and Hiccup powered in the direction of the bedroom. His mother crossed paths with him and placed a hand on his shoulder, sympathetic.

"Is she alright?" Hiccup asked, nearly at the door already.

"Fine, so far," Valka said, "Though not especially thrilled."

"What do you mean?" he asked, opening the door to the bedroom with his mother in tow. He paused. There before him was Astrid, lying on the blankets and biting back another cry. Two midwives busied themselves with Odin knows what, while Edna Hofferson stayed on Astrid's right side and coached her through labor.

Hiccup could only look upon Astrid for an instant before her eyes shot open, irises fraught with agony and her perfect face soiled with beads of sweat. As soon as their eyes met, he could've sworn that a furious flash of red struck through her brilliant blue eyes, igniting a burst of anger the likes of which he had long forgotten what it was like to be the victim of.

"_There_ you are, you son of a _half-troll!"_ Astrid screeched. With her left hand, she snatched one of his charcoal pencils that had been left behind on the table by his side of the bed, knuckles white as she clenched her fingers around it. Before Hiccup could even breathe, she hurled the pencil straight at him.

It was hardly a dangerous weapon, but Hiccup still ducked instinctively, hearing the pencil pathetically slap against the wall at his back and clatter to the ground. Astrid's tirade against him wasn't quite done, though, and her voice sent his head snapping back up in her direction for fear that she would throw something else at him.

"You did this to me, you rat-eating—_munge bucket!" _Astrid threw her head back and furiously swallowed a scream as the contraction continued. When the pain at last subsided, her livid eyes were on him again, lips curling back into a snarl. "We are _never _having sex again; do you hear me?"

Hiccup admittedly gulped. How, exactly, should he approach this?

"I am so sorry I'm late," he decided to start off, "C-Can I come over to the bed?"

Astrid's head bobbed up and down, her burst of fury giving way to fatigue. "Get your ass over here," she murmured. She looked exhausted. Hiccup carefully padded over to his side of the bed, slipping by both of the midwives. He caught a glance at his mother holding back a chuckle as he passed and threw her a brief, panicked look, startled that she could be taking enjoyment out of it all. He refocused on Astrid and her smoldering glare, and once he was at her side, he decided to offer her his hand. It might as well have been a stick for her to bite down on, because she interlocked her fingers with his and, without warning, squeezed with a grip that was surely made of iron.

Hiccup bit back a pained groan. "How far along is she?"

"Her contractions are much closer together now," reported one of the midwives, a woman of about thirty with chocolate brown hair all tied up so as to not get in the way. Cattail, he was pretty sure. "The Chieftess says she's dealt with cramps and pains for most of the afternoon before she passed water, so she's likely at least halfway there."

Astrid winced. "Halfway? Gods."

"Hey," Hiccup leaned in and whispered to her, "You're doing an amazing job."

"Stop talking to me like I'm Stormfly," Astrid snapped under her breath.

"I would never," Hiccup half-apologized, raising his other hand in defense of himself. "I'm not going anywhere now, okay? This is what we've been waiting for. Think of it as a _really long _dragon race, and the finish line is right up ahead. You've got the black sheep, no one can stop you."

Astrid smiled softly, grateful. "I'm really looking forward to getting back into those."

"I'm ready for you to come back, too. It gets boring winning all the time," Hiccup said, only partially bragging. Astrid snickered.

"You're a terrible winner," she said, "Promise you'll stay?"

Hiccup nodded and squeezed her hand back. "Cross my heart," he maintained.

He stood there letting her squeeze the life out of his hand for another two hours as the contractions grew closer and closer together. By the third hour, his hand was numb, and by the fourth, Cattail announced that it was time for Astrid to push.

What followed was a series of long, pained grunts (with a few intermittent cries) as Astrid labored to deliver the baby. Her grip on Hiccup's hand seemingly increased tenfold, but he was so numb that he couldn't find it in himself to complain. He merely kept coaching Astrid through the ordeal, echoing the support offered over and over again by the midwives from _time to start pushing_ to _one more big push, Astrid!_

Before they knew it, the pain ceased, and a pitiful little cry shook the room. Hiccup looked on in awe, hearing Astrid's pained breaths in his right ear. She was too busy recovering, not quite in the frame of mind to look at what he was seeing.

"Astrid, look," he whispered, and with a quiet sigh she tilted her head down and followed his eyes. A faint gasp escaped her lips and her grip on his hand broke, returning feeling to his digits. Hiccup barely noticed, though, too enthralled by the sight before him. Cattail was gently swaddling a frail little figure in a pristine white blanket, her experienced hands careful and tender.

The midwife turned back to them with a brilliant smile. "Say hello to your daughter," she said softly. She carefully handed the squirming little bundle over into Astrid's arms, the baby girl whimpering as she tried to get comfortable. Her eyes were closed, because clearly, it was she who was all worn-out from labor.

"She's beautiful," Hiccup marveled as Astrid tucked the baby into her arms, staring down in wonder.

"We made this," Astrid echoed him and peeled her eyes away from the newborn child to look at Hiccup. With a grin, he nudged his forehead against hers, a silent gesture of love.

"Should we allow the rest of your families in? Or would you both prefer some time alone with the baby?" Cattail asked.

Hiccup and Astrid locked eyes and both nodded slightly. "Let's bring them in for a few minutes," Hiccup said. Cattail stepped over to the bedroom door and leaned out the doorway, beckoning those in the other room to enter. Stoick, Valka, Gobber, Ingvar, and Edna crammed themselves inside, cluttering the bedroom as they all fought to get a good look at the newest addition to the tribe.

"She's gorgeous," Edna said, "What will you name her?"

"Zephyr," Astrid answered immediately, looking down at the babe in her arms, "For the great western wind."

"A fine name, befitting a fine child," Stoick said.

"Judging by what little hair she's got," Hiccup added, "We might need to call her Stoick. If that isn't Haddock red…" a soft chuckle circulated through the group.

"Zephyr Stoick Haddock," Astrid amended, "She'll carry her grandpa's name with her, too."

Hiccup paused, searching her eyes for some hint of pretense, and then beamed. "It's perfect," he said, _"She's _perfect_."_

Their families lingered for only a few more moments before taking their leave. Edna pointed out that Astrid was exhausted, and Hiccup wasn't in much better shape. The midwives coached Astrid and Hiccup through what their baby would need over the next several hours, and then left them alone as well, the only remaining sounds after their departure coming from the flickering candles on the nearby table.

"Can I?" Hiccup asked, gesturing to the bed.

Astrid scooted over, taking great care not to jostle baby Zephyr around as she made room for Hiccup. He carefully climbed onto the bed, tucking his legs in and lying next to Astrid. He stared at Zephyr, warmth bursting forth from his chest.

"I can't believe this is real."

"I can. I'm beat." Astrid looked over and smiled at him. "Do you want to hold her?" Hiccup flinched, scanning her eyes for some hint of pretense, and then nodded. He reached his arms out and Astrid gently passed Zephyr to him, making sure that he had a secure hold before she pulled her hands away. Instinctively she remained close enough that she could jump in if anything started to go less than ideally.

Hiccup stifled a laugh, beaming down at the tiny little life nestled in his arms. "Hi, Zephyr. I guess I'm your dad. It's so great to finally meet you," he whispered, watching the baby girl's frail chest rise and fall underneath her wrappings. Her nose twitched ever so slightly as she dozed, breathing in and out.

Hiccup glanced to Astrid and carefully leaned over to kiss her on the head before returning his full attention to Zephyr. "I'm never gonna let anything happen to you," he said to his daughter, "I promise."

Astrid let him admire the little bundle of a person in his arms, smiling through her own exhaustion. He was so gentle, so careful. He'd be incredible with their daughter, she just knew it.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Astrid whispered to him, "When you got here, I mean. I was pretty bent out of shape."

Hiccup's smirk was barely visible in the candlelight. "And made a few angry and frankly _distressing_ threats, as I recall."

Astrid grimaced. "Well, let's just say I might be able to get used to this," she said, gesturing between him and Zephyr. "And there is only one way to do that." She gained a wicked smirk of her own as she noticed Hiccup's resulting blush.

"I'll, uh…" he covered his mouth and cleared his throat very quietly under his breath, flustered, "I'll make a note of that." Hiccup eyed her anew in the candlelight. "Do you want to hold her again? You kind of did all the work, so I think you've earned it."

"I suppose I did," Astrid mumbled, and she extended her hands slightly so Hiccup could pass Zephyr to her. She tucked their daughter gently into her chest, careful not to disturb her. Hiccup cautiously curled an arm around her and shuffled closer, letting his legs extend forward and relax on the blankets.

"We're parents," Hiccup said, keeping his voice as low as he could.

Astrid gave a weak smile, but her eyes were genuine. "I know," she said, "It's… amazing." For so long, she had never imagined she'd become a mother. She'd thought she'd never want to be one. But now, seeing the beautiful little bundle nestled between them, she couldn't imagine life without her daughter.

It would not be easy. Children were hard work. They didn't operate on any schedule, and in many cases they had minds of their own. It would be a constant struggle from this moment on, in many more ways than one.

Hiccup leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose. He lingered; his face was right beside hers, Zephyr nestled in the space between their bodies and sleeping soundly.

It was an innocent gesture, but it carried the weight of the world to Astrid. She loved the man before her with all her heart. He was the first and only owner of her heart; her closest friend, her confidant, her partner in battle, her husband, and the father of her child. Whatever challenges parenting threw at them, they would weather the storm together and emerge better for them.

Because he was by her side, she was ready for anything.

"I love you," Hiccup whispered. He let his eyes drift closed, taking in a deep breath that seemed to wash away the tension of the last few hours. Sleep was overtaking him, fast.

Her reply was automatic. "I love you, too."

* * *

Toothless folded his wings and darted forward, snatching the black sheep from the air. Astrid could hear the poor ram bleating pathetically as Toothless clutched it in his claws, but the dragon made no sound as he leaned and looped around the side of Raven Point, as focused as Mjölnir slicing through the sky.

"Cut them off, girl," Astrid urged, and Stormfly changed course so she could cut across the mountainside and catch Hiccup and Toothless unexpectedly. Unfortunately, they looped around Raven Point more quickly than she'd expected, so Hiccup spotted them in time. He shifted his foot to change the position of Toothless' fin and they rolled, forcing Astrid to yank on Stormfly's spikes and steer her away to keep from colliding with them. She curled in on herself as she did so, instinctively protecting her head with her shoulders. The wind _whooshed_ up above her.

"Well, hello, milady. Nice day, isn't it?" Hiccup drawled, hanging upside down as Toothless flew over her. The black sheep wailed as its belly faced the sky.

Astrid's head snapped up and she glowered at the cheeky expression on his face. "Stop playing," she warned.

"Playing?" Hiccup teased. Astrid briefly glanced past him, where Snotlout and Hookfang were closing in. She didn't allow her gaze to linger, knowing she'd tip him off if she did. Hiccup was distracted, and she'd use the incoming collision with Snotlout to steal the black sheep right from under _both _of their noses.

"Careful, or I'll climb up and take that sheep myself!" Astrid shouted and reached up for the visible handle on Toothless' saddle. Hiccup snatched her hand out of the air before she could grab on, holding her wrist in a firm yet painless grip.

"I have to warn you, milady, that would be quite dangerous."

"Well, then Stormfly and me will just work together and mitigate the risk," she hissed, right as Hookfang closed in. She ripped her wrist out of Hiccup's grip to avoid being caught in the collision.

But Hiccup and Toothless twisted around just in time, nearly knocking Astrid out of Stormfly's saddle as Hookfang came careening past them. A string of choice words spilled from Snotlout's tongue as he passed, man and dragon hurtling out of the way.

Hiccup snickered and returned his gaze to Astrid, the smile in the eye holes of his mask as apparent as ever. "Nice try," he teased, "But sadly, this race is over. Like I told you on our wedding day: Nadders? They're just not fast enough."

And right then, unwilling to leave anything else up to chance, Hiccup had Toothless launch forward. The downdraft knocked Astrid around, forcing her to grab onto Stormfly to steady herself. She gritted her teeth as she watched Toothless peel away, but not out of anger—she had no qualms about Hiccup getting rough. None at all.

Hiccup left her and everyone else in the dust, depositing the black sheep into his designated basket to score ten points and snatch the victory from all of them. He'd hung back today, only getting minimally involved in the typical madness of a dragon race. Thanks to his marginal participation, no single rider had managed to build an insurmountable lead, allowing him to swoop in and steal the win from all of them in a single round.

Astrid would have to propose lowering the number of points that the black sheep was worth at the next rules meeting. Ten was simply too many.

Stormfly flapped past the finish line, Astrid steadfastly ignoring Hiccup as he did a victory lap with Toothless, scaling the Night Fury's side and accepting a long line of speedy high-fives from the crowd beneath him. The others—Snotlout, the twins, Fishlegs, Eret, and Heather—followed her in and Gobber got on the horn.

"And the Chief wins again, with eleven points on the day! Coming in second, Astrid with seven, followed by Heather with four, Eret three, Snotlout two, and the twins and Fishlegs bringing up the rear tied with one!" the smith bellowed. His braided mustache was beginning to fester with gray hairs, but he was still going strong in the forge, having taken one of Phlegma the Fierce's nephews on as his new apprentice. He often complained that the lad was nowhere near Hiccup's level, and it was clear that Gobber missed the good old days with his original apprentice, so Hiccup tried to pay a visit and lend a hand once a week if his workload wasn't too much.

The crowd roared, though it was more to celebrate an exciting race than to cheer for the Chief's victory. They actually tended to enjoy it more when the Chief and his Night Fury failed to win, which was not as uncommon as one might think. Astrid had by far defeated him the most times, primarily through a combination of beating him to each sheep and mid-air acrobatics. It was never an easy task, that was for sure.

Astrid guided Stormfly down to the center of the stands, where the twin thrones on the plaza sat empty. Sitting in much more pedestrian chairs nearby were Stoick and Valka, each of them tending to a different little human. Both shapes squirmed in their grandparents' grip as Astrid hopped down from her saddle, and the ex-Chief and Chief-Mother released the sentient bundles of joy to charge at their mother's legs.

"Mom! You almost had him!" Zephyr shrieked, her red curls and blue eyes glowing in the summer sun as she pulled up in order to not crash into her mother. Zephyr was five years old, but she had half a mind to say she was both older and wiser. She adored Grandpa Stoick with all her heart, and he with his own. She did, after all, carry his name with her.

Astrid grinned. "I'll just have to get him next time, Zeffie." The second small person bowled into her legs and latched his arms tight around Astrid's knees. Three-year-old Nuffink looked up at her with adoring green eyes, his unruly blonde hair in his face as he did so. Toothless landed with a crash on the plaza, allowing Hiccup to hear Nuffink's question.

"Mom, does it make you mad when Dad beats you in dragon racing?" Nuffink asked, enunciating his words a little more than absolutely necessary.

Astrid laughed outright at that, watching Hiccup with a smirk when she answered. "No, Nuffink, I only get mad when your dad _lets _me win."

"It's true," Hiccup concurred, "Your mom doesn't want to win if the odds are in her favor. She's too competitive."

"Oh," Nuffink drawled, "Okay." And then he let go of Astrid's knees and moved onto something else that had captivated his attention. His hair was so long that he had a rattail growing down the back of his neck, an unsightly feature on the son of a Chief.

"Nuffink, I think it's about time for a haircut," Astrid said, and it came off like a judgment of wrongdoing, because Nuffink audibly cried _'No!' _and bolted in an ill-advised effort to flee. If he could just manage to escape, Astrid couldn't take him to Aunt Heather for said appointment and force him to sit still in a chair for what felt like hours on end.

"Tooth'ess, help!" the toddler wailed. Fortunately, the Night Fury knew better than to undermine Astrid, and so he leaned down to clench his teeth around the collar of Nuffink's tunic and carry him back in Astrid's direction. Once Nuffink realized what was happening, he thrashed and tried to fight his way out of Toothless' grip, but the dragon's jaws were much too strong. Toothless was prompt in handing the boy into Astrid's waiting arms as he crossed the plaza, whereupon the young lad finally gave up on his struggle and sulked.

"Traitor," Nuffink lamented with a frown directed at Toothless. The Night Fury warbled and looked to Hiccup for some kind of pointer. Had he done well, betraying the small human?

"Good thinking, bud," Hiccup said and patted the dragon's side. Toothless warbled apologetically to Nuffink, which seemed to lighten the toddler's mood at least a little. Astrid started walking toward them, Nuffink in her arms, Zephyr on her hip, and Stormfly quite literally shadowing all three of them.

"Good race, Hiccup. But I'm beating you next time," Astrid said.

"You always say that," he challenged.

"And I'm always right," Astrid chirped back at him. She looked over the edge of the plaza where Heather was conversing with Fishlegs. "Heather! I'm afraid I've got a little one in need of your services!" she called, and the black-haired Berserker looked up from the mob. Heather smiled up at her and Nuffink audibly whined. Fishlegs leaned forward to kiss Heather on the cheek, clasping her hand with his for a moment before heading off in the other direction so Heather could head over to Astrid.

"Okay, so you'll take Nuffink to Heather's, and Zephyr can come with me to the Council meeting?" Hiccup suggested. Astrid signed off on the idea with a nod. Seeing that her fate had been negotiated without her consent, Zephyr groaned.

"Aw, but Dad, those are boring!"

"I know they are, little lady, but the heir to Berk has to start learning early," Hiccup said as Zephyr sulked. "Tell you what, tonight we'll go out to the cliffs and watch the sunset as a family and go for a flight. How's that sound?"

Zephyr beamed at the suggestion. "Can I fly with you on Toothless?"

"Only if you let your brother have a turn later."

"Deal!" Zephyr declared and started to skip in the general direction of the Great Hall. The crowds of Vikings below were dispersing to get on with the chores of the day, the morning's entertainment over with.

"I'd better not let her disappear," Hiccup said to Astrid.

"Damn right. That's my daughter there."

Hiccup guffawed, coiling his arm around the small of Astrid's back. "C'mere, you," he said, tugging her in for a kiss; chaste and sweet, but with all the love in the world. Nuffink loudly complained about the two of them being gross and Hiccup stuck his tongue out at his son, earning a giggle out of the toddler.

"I'll see you two later," Hiccup said, and turned on his heel. "Zeph! Wait up!"

* * *

The day blew by, Sól rushing to duck under the horizon and escape the wolves for another day. As promised, the Haddock family followed the setting sun to the western cliffs. The crags overlooked the harbor on one side and the western woods on the other, the sun always setting over the evergreens of Berk.

Hiccup and Astrid walked up the path to the cliffs hand-in-hand, their dragons taking the lead in front of them. Zephyr rode on Stormfly's back, playfully tugging on the Nadder's reins as if she were an airborne shieldmaiden leading a battle in the sky. Stormfly played along, trilling and contracting her tail spines over and over. Next to her, Nuffink sat much more peacefully on Toothless' back, merely swaying with the Night Fury's movements.

Astrid leaned on Hiccup's shoulder, watching their children with a gleam in her eye. Part of her envied them, being able to have dragons by their side from birth, but a greater piece of her being felt pride. Building this peace had not been easy, and some days over the past six years had still been difficult ones. Drago's defeat hadn't immediately brought an end to skirmishes with hostile dragon trappers and enigmatic leaders. There were still those who had sought control through force and saw dragons as the arm of their ambitions.

But the might of Berk had felled them all, and now, the island was coming up on its third year of uninterrupted peace, a feat that would've been unfathomable to those who came before. Today, Berk was everything Astrid had once thought it could never be. Over the course of a little more than a decade, the people that had once been dragon slayers had become dragon riders, friends and companions of the beasts that once ravaged their village. They were the protectors of peace, the defenders of the islands where dragons roamed free, and feared from edge to edge of the world. They were the whispered fables in the ears of young babes, living legends on the backs of dragons.

And leading them?

The talking fishbone himself had become a man; a force to be reckoned with in the streets, in the skies, and at the table. He was a strange fellow, but Astrid loved him more than anything (except for, perhaps, the two little people they'd created. With the peace having held for as long as it did, they were starting to have discussions—and sometimes more—about adding a third to the mix). By now, she could hardly remember a time when she _hadn't_ loved him.

Their family reached the highest point of the cliffs, the rock face jutting out over the sea and glowing in the sunset. Next to the cliffs were the tops of several trees, and thick shrubbery cluttered the space between. The dragons planted themselves near the cliff's edge and the kids slid off of the saddles.

"Alright, kids, huddle up. Once the sun goes down, we'll go for a nighttime flight," Hiccup said. Nuffink and Zephyr huddled together, sandwiched in between their parents and the dragons.

The silence could only hold for so long. "Mom, Dad," Zephyr asked, "Will you tell us the story of how you met Toothless and Stormfly again?"

"Sure, Zeph," said Hiccup. He glanced at Astrid. "Should I start?"

Astrid nodded, flashing a sweet smile. "The story does start with you."

Hiccup started recounting the tale, painting a mental picture for the two little ones in his and Astrid's laps. He practically designed the machine that had shot Toothless down before their eyes with all of his details, telling them what each and every part did. Astrid threw in little comments here and there as he explained how he'd rushed up the hill to look for a clean shot at the Night Fury besieging Berk's skies, the _horrifying, bloodthirsty offspring of lightning and death itself._

The dragon in questioned rolled his big green eyes and licked Zephyr on the back of the head as if to contradict Hiccup's point. Zephyr giggled at the sensation, while Astrid glared at Toothless and very pointedly moved to stop Nuffink from declaring, "Me next!" and getting licked as well. She'd explained to her two children _many _times that Night Fury saliva did _not_ wash out easily.

"And I fired the Mangler at the shape in the sky, and the next thing I know there was this great roar," Hiccup snared Zephyr in his grip and lifted her up, making an exaggerated guttural noise right in her ear that made her squeal with laughter.

"And then Mommy came running up the hill, axe in hand, ready to beat your dad into submission for being a mischievous little sneak," Astrid butted in, smirking.

"That she did!" Hiccup concurred, "Kids, I'm warning you, do not ever try to pull the wool over your mother's eyes. There will be Hel to pay, and believe me, I will not try to help you out."

"You'd best listen to him, kids. Your dad kind of knows what he's talking about."

Hiccup smiled and then launched back into the story. "And that was when a preposterously huge Monstrous Nightmare came climbing over the cliff, his skin alight with fire!" That part wasn't true, but it might as well have been. "He wasn't happy with me for shooting down his friend…" He went on and on, telling them how he'd gone into the forest after the disastrous raid to search for his quarry, then how he'd let it go, then how he'd tracked Toothless down again, and built his tail, all the while with Astrid adding important details from her side of the story. She took over a majority of the storytelling when they reached the point of Astrid being introduced to Stormfly.

By the time the tale was all well and told, it was nearly nighttime, the last curves of the sun still peering over the horizon. The sky was painted with all manner of reds and oranges and purples, and the stars were growing more visible by the second.

"Kids, what do you say we go for that flight?" Hiccup asked. Zephyr and Nuffink both cheered, excited to finally get on with what they'd _really _come out to the cliffs for. The family rose to their feet, Toothless and Stormfly itching to get going. Zephyr was to fly with Hiccup first and Nuffink with Astrid, and they'd later switch at some point. Hiccup always loved the acrobatic exchange, guiding Toothless into twists and turns over Stormfly's head to swap kids before dashing off again.

Nuffink was grabbing onto the stirrup at Stormfly's side, utterly determined to lift himself onto the Nadder's saddle without any help. Something else, however, appeared to catch his attention.

"Do you hear that?" the toddler asked, looking to the bushes near the cliff. Curiosity abound, he dropped his foot from the stirrup and hobbled toward the foliage.

"Nuffink, be careful," she warned, but he didn't call back to her. Astrid started to follow him with a measured caution, having all too much prior experience with Nuffink paying the price for not being cautious. Hiccup nudged Zephyr and gestured for her to follow him after her brother.

Sure enough, the bushes were rustling, leaves shaking about as something writhed beneath them. Nuffink stopped halfway to the bushes and stared at them, waiting.

"Dad, look! Do you think it's a dragon?" Zephyr asked.

Hiccup shrugged. "It might be, Zeph. Let's try not to scare it."

The bushes stopped shaking and a tiny reptilian head poked out, golden eyes wide and curious. The rest of the dragon's body slithered out behind it, little green legs carrying it forward. The Terrible Terror spotted Nuffink and stared, nostrils expanding and deflating rapidly.

"Hi," Nuffink cooed, dropping down and extending one of his little hands in the Terror's direction. The mischievous dragon shuffled forward, pausing about a foot from the toddler. Nuffink gasped as the Terror smelled him, staying still against his wild toddler instincts as he recalled what Hiccup had always told him about Terrors. They scared easy, since they were so small, and if they felt cornered, they lashed out.

The Terrible Terror seemed to approve of Nuffink, and without warning launched onto his hand to scuttle up his arm. Nuffink giggled hysterically as the little dragon reached his neck, scales and claws brushing gently against his skin.

"Mom! Can I keep him?" cried the boy.

"As long as he wants you to," Astrid said. Nuffink had brought critters home before, though this was his first dragon. Both parents knew that he couldn't force the Terror to stay, they were picky like that. But right now, Nuffink was having the time of his life. Zephyr left Hiccup's side to play with the little dragon, who immediately accepted her presence and bounded onto her shoulder as well.

"He's so cute!" she giggled, though the Terror deftly dodged her when she brought a few fingers up to pet him. "Did he come up here from the village?"

"He might've," said Hiccup, "But he could be a newcomer." Wild dragons showed up on Berk all the time, the majority of them curious or simply looking for a new place to roost. The dragon paradise of Berk typically roped all of them in to stay long-term. They even had seasonal residents—packs of dragons that lingered on the island for a time before always migrating somewhere new in the colder (by comparison) months and returning once the weather turned. Toothless, ever the benevolent Alpha, had encouraged his scaly underlings to come and go as they pleased.

"I'm gonna call him Greenie! Because he's green!" Nuffink declared as the Terror hopped on top of his head and began smelling his blonde hair.

"That he is, buddy," Hiccup said, smirking as he nudged Astrid on the arm. "Guess we'll need to add an extra fish or two to the daily stock."

"And guard it from Toothless," Astrid added. The Night Fury overheard her and groaned, annoyed at being called out.

"This'll be good for them. Their first dragon. It'll teach them some responsibility."

"Odin knows they need it."

"They're so lucky, you know. They'll never know what it was like to be at war with dragons."

"They're lucky that _you _came around and showed everyone else the truth," Astrid said. Hiccup draped his arm around her and tugged her close, leaning over to kiss her on the top of the head. She leaned into his touch. "Hey, so I've got something to tell you."

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to see Gothi tomorrow. I _think," _Astrid paused, emphasizing that it was only a suspicion and far from confirmation, "That I might be pregnant."

Hiccup froze and looked down at her as she tilted her head up to lock eyes with him. Zephyr and Nuffink squealed as they played with Greenie, blissfully unaware of their parents' conversation.

"That's wonderful," he whispered, and this time her kissed her more firmly on the cheek. Astrid tried and failed to hide her grin.

Toothless warbled at Hiccup, in that way that was very obviously a whine. Hiccup looked at the dragon, who nudged forward and swished his tail deliberately. "Can't you see we're having a moment, bud?" he asked, only slightly annoyed. Toothless whined again, stamping his feet this time. "Oh, alright, we'll get going, you selfish reptile," Hiccup groaned. He met Astrid's eyes again, "Honestly, I think we already have three kids. It's just that this one can fly and breathe fire."

"Stormfly doesn't bring the count up to four?" asked Astrid, cocking an eyebrow.

"Nah, I'm counting her as an aunt, or maybe a cousin."

Astrid snorted and looked away, eyes now pointing over her shoulder at their two children. She cupped her right hand beside her mouth to amplify her voice as she called to them. "Zephyr, Nuffink! Come on, let's go flying really quick. Greenie can come with us if he wants."

The Terrible Terror indeed ended up wanting to fly with the family, already smitten with the two youngsters that had found it. The kids returned to Toothless and Stormfly, climbing into the saddles with one of their parents—Zephyr with Hiccup, and Nuffink with Astrid.

"Dad, can we fly really fast this time?"

"Sure, Zeffie."

"How fast?" Zephyr pressed, a hint of eagerness in her voice.

"Hmm," Hiccup hummed, considering, and then he pointed to the statues guarding the bay. "See the Guardians? I want you to time us all by yourself, and we'll see how fast we can get there."

Zephyr accepted the task with a bright grin and a feverish nod, excited. Hiccup helped her position her hands on the saddle's handlebars, and with a click of his tongue he urged Toothless forward. The Night Fury bounded forward, breaking into a run before leaping off the cliff, spreading his black, bat-like wings to catch the wind.

"Mom, let's chase them!" Nuffink begged, so Astrid mushed Stormfly after the Night Fury, knowing that they wouldn't be able to catch them. But she'd be damned if she didn't try.

Nuffink whooped as Stormfly flew, almost immediately forgetting that he had wanted to try and chase after his father and sister on Toothless. He was merely thrilled to be flying at all. Stormfly seemed to feed off of the little boy's energy, pulling out all the stops to keep him giggling and hollering as she danced on the winds.

Astrid could only smile. Even in the dead of night, her family was a beacon of light, illuminating her way and reminding her every day what she strived for. What she had fought for and fought against.

The ghosts of the past were dead. The winds of change had blown their ashes away, bringing the future in its wake. Peace was possible, and gods willing, it would last forever.

_**END**_

* * *

_**And that's it! As mentioned earlier, here are my questions for all of you before I close the book on this story. Please, please, please consider sending a review. It really would mean a great deal to me.**_

_**1) **__**What was your favorite part of Ghosts? For me, my favorite parts to write were probably Chapter 1: The Best Kept Secret, Chapter 7: In the Dragon's Den, and this, the epilogue. Bonus question: Do you have a favorite part from Bound? Mine was the battle against the Red Death, which included Hiccup and Astrid's first kiss. There are a number of things that influenced that scene.**_

_**2) **__**What was your least favorite part of Ghosts? For me, my least favorite parts to write were probably Chapter 2: Where No One Goes, and the stretch from Chapter 11 to Chapter 13 that bridged the gap from the heroes' escape to the First Battle of Berk. Bonus question: You guessed it; do you have a least favorite part from Bound?**_

_**3) **__**What's something that you think could've been done differently in this story? Any particular changes you might've made? Anything that I didn't include that you would've liked to see?**_

_**4) **__**Anything else that you might have to say about this story, say it. Whether it's about characters, certain plot points, etc., don't leave anything out. I want to hear it.**_

_**From the bottom of my heart, thank you all for reading my work. It's been a blast to write Bound and Ghosts for you all. I'm sure it hasn't always been the thrill of a lifetime, but the feedback I've received over the last year and some odd months has made it all worth it. Thank you so much to each and every one of you reading this. You guys are the reason I write. I hope you've enjoyed the journey like I have.**_

_**-**__**OP17**_


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